Mistakes Were Made

NPR features a show called "This American Life." One of the episodes was entitled "Mistakes were Made."

It is a fitting title for our morning. Zach has a new elective he's crazy about: Healthy Living. He is called upon to demonstrate push-ups, sit-ups, and stretching techniques. The students are asked to keep a log of what they eat and when they sleep. Today was his day to bring a healthy snack. His Mom offered a veggie tray or a fruit tray, but Zach has become adept at cookie making and wanted to do some baking. She pulled out her Feed Your Kids Right cookbooks by Lendon Smith (unfortunately gathering more dust than it should) and Zach chose a muffin recipe.

He woke early (wanting them to be fresh) and set to work. The batter he displayed for approval didn't look like the right consistency for muffins. After studying the recipe and he realized that he'd only doubled the baking soda and salt, but nothing else. Also the oatmeal was supposed to be put through the blender first. Oh well.


He was trying to remix the stuff in between Dad's scripture study presentation (which not only went over poorly but also kept him from being ready when his ride came.) After the muffins were baked Mom allowed the baby to have one (they were mini-muffins and he was hungry). Then his Mother tried a bit of the stuff stuck to the pan. She said, laughing, "You might want to bring some honey butter or jam or --something" (not great for a fledgling cook's ego.)

She also suggested transferring the morsels into a basket, but he was eager to go and wanted to keep them in their pans. Three pans proved difficult to maneuver past the other Halls trying to grab backpacks, shoes, and coats. After wrestling Max-O into his coat, his mother turned around quickly, her shoulder bumping a whole tin of muffins out onto the garage floor. Poor Zach fled the scene. The children helped retrieve the muffins. Mother explained that it was simply like they'd been in the fridge for a minute, and that since the garage floor was so cold, the dirt couldn't stick. She nestled the muffins with plaid towels in a basket, put some butter and knives in a Tupperware and called to her oldest.

In the old van Mother danced and sang to Cyndi Lauper in an effort to lighten the mood. She signed bits of paper for make-shift Spanish logs, and wished them well. As Zach opened the door to step out, she said laughing, "did you do that on purpose?" "What?" he smiled back. And then she made some comment about his appearance. His face showed surprise and hurt.

What kind of mother does that? Shame on that mother. She knows better. She apologized several times. It was heartfelt, but she stewed all the way home.


Do you know that muffin-man? Pray for him today.

Mistakes were made.