Recipe for disaster

Monday night I went to a Taste of Home cooking school. I went to one two years ago and really enjoyed it, except for the fact that I had a two month old baby with me. Have you ever tried to carry two grocery bags, half a dozen carnations, a diaper bag, a baby carrier/carseat, and a box with a ceramic pie plate in it, three blocks to where you parked? Somehow I made it home with all of that intact. But I was looking forward to this year, when I could watch the show and not have to breastfeed in the middle of it.

Now, my seven year old enjoys cooking. He's been known to watch cooking shows on television and get upset when I changed the channel. So I decided to invite him along, even though they told me over the phone that he would be $10, same as me. Naturally, the lady at the door took one look at his cute little face and didn't charge me for him. So we went and explored the vendors before the show started, taking advantage of all the freebies (food samples, bottled water, and one place gave him a couple of toy trucks and a balloon). Then it was time for the show.

Even though he has watched cooking shows before, he has never sat and watched a two and a half hour cooking show. He was fascinated at first ("What is she doing with that egg?" "Separating it." "Why?"). As the demonstration went on, I tried to find interesting things to point out, but he became much more interested in the theatre-type seats, which he could sit on the edge of and then flop down loudly and much to the annoyance of at least one other attendee (that would be me). At intermission, we went and got him some more free potato chips. We stayed until the very end of the show (10 p.m.!) only because he was sure we would win a door prize. We didn't. I told him he could have the ceramic pie plate I won two years ago.

Hopefully I haven't completely killed his interest in cooking by taking him to this thing. He says he enjoyed it. I still harbor my fantasy of a child who will cook dinner for me a few years from now.