Slice
The Littlest Pizzaiolo
Cute story over on weblog Laid Off Dad, a site I take it, about being a laid-off dad. Seems like the blog proprietor's son might be a pizzaiolo in the making:
Is there such a thing as the Fixated Behavior stage? Has someone unearthed a biological imperative for toddlers to latch onto a behavior and decide it must be performed over and over for days at a time? Of course there probably is, and it’s called FBS, and some pharmaceutical conglomerate is cracking the whip in R&D trying to come up with the drugs to counteract it. (And what a great idea that can be!)FBS takes many forms. Over the weekend, one of Robert’s friends kept repeating “I can’t stop crying! I need something to feel better!” and eliciting awkward shrugs from Mommy. For Robert, the obsession is making imaginary pizzas. The little chef pulls on his apron—which is really both handles of a cloth totebag pulled over his head—and stands at the couch, which doubles as the prep area and oven (“Don’t sit there right now! It’s hot!”). The parent is the sous-chef, who retrieves the dough (“I’m rolling it flat in a circle!”), the sauce (“Pouring, pouring!”), and all the toppings, which have ranged from pepperoni to spinach to Puffins. Then comes the very careful business of sliding nothing onto his pizza paddle (a wooden spatula) and carefully balancing it before sliding it onto the sofa cushion/oven, which he freely admits he is not allowed to touch because “it’s dangerous and very hot.”
Hmm. I'd harness that kid's energy and train him to make real pies. It's win-win. The tyke would love it, and Dad would never be at a loss for dinner (or breakfast or lunch).
(Oh, the photo at top is of Slice metro editor Seltzerboy, back when he was but a wee young lad.)
[Thanks to La Depressionada for spotting this.]