Tonight is the night before Turkey day and I've been cooking up a storm, just as every other American woman the night before a food holiday.
And Harriet the spy can't stand when anyone is doing anything and her nose isn't in the center of the action. Well....as I've said before, Lucy's hygiene leaves something to be desired.
And I'm a little feisty when I'm cooking for other people.
So as Gran wanders into the kitchen in the middle of my baking frenzy and looks at my cranberry white chocolate muffins and starts to walk toward them I intercept her.
Gran please don't touch the muffins. If you want to be in the kitchen you need to wash your hands.
(she stares at me with her mouth open wide enough to catch flies)
Kenna what are you saying?
I'm saying that you need to wash your hands before you start touching things in the kitchen.
(she stares at me again)
My hands is clean.
No gran, they aren't. Please wash your hands.
Oh shit. Don't tell me what to do!
(she stalks off)
Three minutes later Gran is back in the kitchen. I'm guarding my muffins and she's looking at them with a gleam in her eye.
Gran, if you're going to be in the kitchen, you need to wash your hands, with SOAP.
(she stares at me and starts to go for the muffins. See every time I bake she likes to touch EVERY SINGLE MUFFIN on the cooling rack)
Gran, don't touch my muffins.
Oh shit Kenna. Don't tell me what to do. I can't even look.
Gran if you're going to be in the kitchen wash your hands.
She stalks off muttering oh shit don't tell me what to do.
Five minutes later here comes gran!
We have the same conversation, complete with a Go to hell Kenna!
and then she tells me that she's not going to eat anything I cook.
Then she stalks off and I tell her goodnight and she ignores me.
Huh? She's not speaking to me? Really? SWWWEEEETTTTTT
I finished my baking without gran in the kitchen.
It was baking bliss.