I’d Like to Thank the Little People

Piper is busy preparing for her first Power Point presentation. You read that right. In kindergarten. This week she’ll stand before her class and an assembly of parents and present her findings on the origin of pasta fagioli, or as we call it, Piper Soup¬†(recipe included). She did the research and created the presentation at school, but we’ve been practicing her five slides at home. It may send the cute factors into the stratosphere.

“Will you be there for the presentation, Mom?” Piper asked following one of her many practice runs.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” I said.

“Can Sissy come too?”

“Sure. I’ll email her teacher to make sure it’s okay.”

“What about Sissy’s friends? Can they come too?”

“Probably not, but I’ll certainly ask,” I promised.

Piper looked down at the printed copy of her slides. She sighed. “We’re going to need more chairs in the audience. You know, for my fan club.”

What’s On Your Plate?

It’s a little slow around here, especially compared to the marathon that is the holidays. Today there weren’t any presents to wrap or unwrap. No holiday cards to address (Oh, who am I kidding? Tiny Prints does all the work for me). No holiday tunes to belt out. We said goodbye to the beach and flew home with sand in our suitcases. I’m hoping the fairies show up soon and wrap each ornament individually and put away the tree. Le Sigh.

So Piper and I spent some time this afternoon mulling the new year over a bowl of spaghetti. It’s what she asked for when she came in the door from her first day back to school. “Mom, I had a great day,” Piper announced, creating a pile one foot from the door of backpack, coat, mittens, scarf, lunchbox, hat. “Now, I need some spaghetti. Bolognese sauce, please.” I understand. I had made the same thing earlier for lunch. Great minds think alike. The new year needs comfort food. Parmesan makes everything better.

Piper ate and told me about her new school project called “What’s on your plate?” where she’ll be learning how food actually gets onto her plate. It’s her first big research project. She’ll create a Power Point. She’ll present it by herself to an audience of parents. There will be cookies, of course, but she’ll know that the cookies are made from flour which comes from wheat which is grown in the ground. It’s cool stuff. I’m pretty sure I sat and made Playdoh snakes my entire kindergarten year. Times have changed.

“I’m really starting to think about my food, you know?” Piper said, gazing down into her spaghetti goodness. “Like this came from you, right?”

“I boiled the pasta and made the sauce, but I didn’t grow the wheat myself,” I admitted. “I bought the pasta from a store. Someone else grew the tomatoes.”

Piper twirled a good amount around her fork and sprinkled on more cheese, which comes from cows and is aged two years in Italy’s Parmigiano-Reggiano region.

“Well, wherever it came from, I like the sound spaghetti makes when I slurp it,” she said, smacking her lips together for effect. “It sounds like someone is KISSING!”