It's all about dough

Yesterday was Eli's first day of cooking class, the same one that Eva took last year. I was little worried that he was too little to handle the format but he proved me wrong. He got right into the class. He stretched, sang, washed hands all right on cue. When it came time to chop apples, I thought we'd give a try and then he could go and play with some of the other children that had no interest in being at the table. Eli masterfully learned the proper hand position for the knife and went to town. He was so focused and determined to cut the apples. He never got frustrated and did not give up until the task was over. Next came the bread making. Eli was very interested in what everyone was doing with their alotment of dough. He looked around the table and them promptly started to pat, pat his. All was fine until Lalla, the teacher, wanted more dough for the apple loaf and i halved mine and pinched a wee bit from Eli's bun. Well he immediatly got enraged yelling, "mine, mine, mine," reaching for his piece of dough that was being kneaded into a big loaf. Then came time to put our individual buns on the baking pan. The pan made it's way around the table and each child placed their masterpiece upon the sheet. When it reached Eli and it was made clear that he was to forfeit his bun to the pan he his the high road trailing his flattened bun in tow - pieces dripping on to the floor. I finally caught up with my quick son and at eased the dough from his grip just to put it into a ball so that it would at least not fall apart. Whew. Eli carried around his trouphy the next 30 minutes. It was now time to go upstairs to the play area. Lalla started singing the "Little Red Caboose" song and Eli walked over to be the first car. Lalla let me know that the bread could not go upstairs, and said to Eli, "your bread needs to go join it's friends in the oven." Eli says, "NO!." I took him into the kitchen and opened the oven and without thinking, snatched his dough and added it the pan and closed the door. Bad move MOM! Eli was hysterical, he screamed and had every parent and child looking at us. I tried to carry him and calm him down to no avail. Finally, I opened the door and knocked the bun out with a wooden spoon and gave it back to him after testing how hot it was. Immediate calm. He took it upstairs and sat on my lap for the show about the boy and the apple tree. Once playtime began he spotted a train and relinquished his dough. He was reunited with it once we got downstairs again where he joyfully licked it and patted it for a while. Once the apple loaf was served he forgot all about his dearly beloved dough and left happily with a cooked bun in his grasps.