“Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they’re yours.” – Richard Bach
Step 1: Set the bar low. Does a step-by-step instruction based turkey gingerbread from Trader Joe’s count as a “Pinterest project”? Any craft does for this mom. ANY CRAFT.
Step 2: Dodge your sons’ requests to build the thing for days. Continuously remind yourself that you are taking on the project because it will make him happy. Save it for Friday when your son has the day off of school and you need to keep idle hands busy.
Step 3: Get down to business when Friday afternoon rolls around. Immediately panic when you read step one on the instructions. I HAVE TO MAKE THE FROSTING?!?! What kind of heist is Trader Joe’s trying to pull? Question your ability to get an egg white out of an egg since you’ve never undertaken the task in your 36 years of existence. Realize that there’s no turning back now.
Step 4: Search the recesses of your mind to remember the back-and-forth motion you saw your mom do with an egg to get an egg white. Feel proud of yourself that you nailed it on the first try. Recognize how pathetic you are when it comes to baking skills.
Step 5: Notice that the consistency of the frosting is too thick. Chide yourself for your laziness by refusing to get the mixer out and attempting to mix it by hand.
Step 6: Realize how hazardous it is that your daughter has access to the kitchen drawer after she pulls out the scissors, a stapler, and a lighter. Yes, it took me all three items to come to this realization.
Step 7: Start to stress out over the ludicrous fact that you have to shove said thick frosting into a plastic bag. Laugh when you notice that even your son thinks this is absurd.
Step 8: Read step three of the instructions 10 times since it doesn’t register over your children’s jabbering.
Step 9: Apply a small amount of icing on the gingerbread before your son insists on helping. Feel your blood pressure rise as he haphazardly applies the icing. Relax when you realize you can blame the messy finished product on him.
Step 10: Feel blood pressure spike again as you try to defy gravity by holding gingerbread pieces together until they dry. Your son tells you, “This is fun” and, “You’re doing great, Mom!”, because he can tell you’re running on a short fuse at this point.
Step 11: Yell at the kids as they both simultaneously try to eat the frosting while your hands aren’t free to stop them. Fuse blown.
Step 12: Get irritated that you have to wait a half hour to let the dang thing dry before decorating it with candy. Rejoice that it’s 5 pm on the dot so you can grab some mommy juice while you wait.
Step 13: Dole out candies to your kids as you finish decorating the turkey. Come to the realization that this is the real reason your son gets excited about these activities.
Step 14: Shoddily try to use the sprinkles on the icing, but the icing has already dried and they just bounce off. Who writes these instructions, anyways?
Step 15: Realize that, though you have a college degree, you somehow managed to place the turkey backwards on the base.
Step 16: Step back to admire the finished product. Have the audacity to post it on the internet and Pinterest (oh wait, that’s just me). *
It looks just like the example, right?
*This week’s post was written as a nod to the fact that I’m now on Pinterest. Follow me here! But not for crafts or recipes (obviously).