Yesterday started out uneventfully enough. I was out of bread. I searched for a new bread recipe. I baked bread.
Anyway, after the bread had cooled to that magic slightly-warm and sliceable state the sound of my electric knife drew my son to the kitchen. He watched intently as each yeasty slice of bread fell to the side as I cut into the loaf.
When I was done, I handed him a piece. Well, we know my son can be finicky about food, so I wasn't sure how this warm, soft slice of bread would go over.
I turned my head for a second...when I looked back at him his mouth was stuffed and in each hand was a tiny bit of bread- the only remaining evidence of the slice I had handed him. He DEVOURED it! I was impressed.