by Jo Robertson 
And here's the recipe!
Source URL: http://plasticsurgerycelebrities.blogspot.com/2009/08/how-come-you-never-taught-me.html
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I was teaching my granddaughter how to make my special brownies the other day. Corinna’s ten and the oldest of three children, so she took charge immediately.
“Two scant cups flour, ½ scant cup cocoa." She read through the entire list aloud without stopping, gathered the ingredients and utensils, and spread them out on the counter.
Only then did she stop and ask, “What’s ‘scant’”? She pronounced the word with a long a, which was rathe
r cute, but of course, I held back my smile.
“Not quite full to the top,” I answered, “because I don't like my brownies too chocolate-y.”
We began making the brownies (recipe below for seekers of high-calorie goodies). I instructed her every step of the way. “We always cream the butter and sugar,” I said, “and then add the eggs. You don’t want to melt the butter in the microwave and then add the eggs or else – ”
“You’ll get scrambled eggs!” she giggled.
“Two scant cups flour, ½ scant cup cocoa." She read through the entire list aloud without stopping, gathered the ingredients and utensils, and spread them out on the counter.
Only then did she stop and ask, “What’s ‘scant’”? She pronounced the word with a long a, which was rathe
r cute, but of course, I held back my smile.“Not quite full to the top,” I answered, “because I don't like my brownies too chocolate-y.”
We began making the brownies (recipe below for seekers of high-calorie goodies). I instructed her every step of the way. “We always cream the butter and sugar,” I said, “and then add the eggs. You don’t want to melt the butter in the microwave and then add the eggs or else – ”
“You’ll get scrambled eggs!” she giggled.
Quick girl.
My daughter Megan sat on a high stool, watching us, a puzzled look on her face. “I never knew that,” she said at last, “the part about creaming the butter and the sugar. How come you never taught me that?”
Why hadn’t I taught her that? Easy answer – she was the sixth child in a seven-year stretch of babies. The girl was lucky I taught her how to tie her shoes. Wait! That wasn’t me; it was her older sister.
Sigh.
You see how it goes? Whether you have one child or seven, it’s the same. There’s never enough time to teach them everything. Some stuff they figure out on their own. If they're lucky, they'll learn the rest from a sibling or a friend.
My daughter Megan sat on a high stool, watching us, a puzzled look on her face. “I never knew that,” she said at last, “the part about creaming the butter and the sugar. How come you never taught me that?”
Why hadn’t I taught her that? Easy answer – she was the sixth child in a seven-year stretch of babies. The girl was lucky I taught her how to tie her shoes. Wait! That wasn’t me; it was her older sister.
Sigh.
You see how it goes? Whether you have one child or seven, it’s the same. There’s never enough time to teach them everything. Some stuff they figure out on their own. If they're lucky, they'll learn the rest from a sibling or a friend.
I learned to drive a stick shift car from my father, not always a good idea as papas are notoriously impatient teachers. My sons learned from me.
It's fun to teach b
oys how to drive because they're so eager and are often quite skillful. They relish the whole idea of keeping the gear in second before they pop it into third or fourth. I call it the Nascar Syndrome. But I wonder, will their sons ask some years down the road why their father didn’t teach them how to drive a stick shift?
You see, there’s a window of opportunity to learn something -- riding a bike, tying your shoes, swimming. If you miss it, you may never learn how to master that skill.
oys how to drive because they're so eager and are often quite skillful. They relish the whole idea of keeping the gear in second before they pop it into third or fourth. I call it the Nascar Syndrome. But I wonder, will their sons ask some years down the road why their father didn’t teach them how to drive a stick shift?You see, there’s a window of opportunity to learn something -- riding a bike, tying your shoes, swimming. If you miss it, you may never learn how to master that skill.
And of course, this applies to writing. Who "teaches" writers how to write? Do they fig
ure it out on their own? Are they born storytellers for whom it comes naturally? Do they have mentors or is it all trial and error?
ure it out on their own? Are they born storytellers for whom it comes naturally? Do they have mentors or is it all trial and error?What about you? Is there a hole in your "learning repertoire"? How did you learn the basics of life -- cooking a meal that isn't microwaved, sewing on a button or mending a tear in your shirt? Putting gas in your car or fixing a flat tire?
If you're a writer, who "taught" you how to write or who fostered the desire to write stories of your own?
And here's the recipe!
JO'S BEST BROWNIES
2 scant cups flour
1/2 scant cup cocoa
1 cup soft butter
2 cups sugar
2 cups sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 eggs
nuts (optional)
Bake in greased pan at 350 degrees for twenty minutes. Do not overbake. Sprinkle with powdered sugar when warm.
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