Storytime: Smarter than a fifth-grader
I am always eager for my friend Marley to come play. Marley is the 10-year-old daughter of dear friends; I have cradled her and cuddled her — and been manipulated by her since the day she was born.
I love her like she is my own.
When Marley comes to my house, sometimes we play in the yard, sometimes we make crafts, sometimes we sing and dance. Every minute I spend with Marley, I forget about work and the world and the worries of our country. This little girl has a way of showing me the lighter, loving side of life.
She is much smarter than a fifth-grader.
I turned off the TV before Marley arrived, and vowed to forget about politics, promises and the people fighting to win my vote. I am weary with new laws, old views and the lack of cooperation between the elected officials who should be cooperating the most.
Marley is the perfect distraction.
I had an event to attend that night which required taking a dish to share, so I asked Marley to assist. Marley is a very good help in the kitchen because she thinks cooking is fun. I, however, am not good in the kitchen nor do I think cooking is fun.
That’s why I need Marley in my life.
“What are we making?” Marley asked, way more excited than I was. She was dressed in an outfit she had put together herself, some sort of creation out of denim that was very fashion-forward. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, which Marley explained is purposely styled to look that way.
Marley is cool like that.
When I told her we were making “Pink Fluffy Stuff,” Marley stared at me like surely that was something I had made up, and of course, she was right.
“OK,” Marley sighed, showing her skepticism. “First get out all the ingredients.” Since I almost always do what Marley says, I brought them out.
All two of them.
“Where is the rest of the stuff?” Marley asked, incredulous when she only saw a box of strawberry Jell-O and a tub of whipped cream. She then went on to inform me that when she cooks with her grandmother, they use lots of bowls and pans and flour and sugar and pizza sauce.
“Are you sure two ingredients will work?”
While I boiled water for the Jell-O, I confessed to Marley that I don’t like to cook because something always goes wrong. Some people are good at sewing, some people are good at singing and some people are good at cooking.
I am not any of those people.
Marley sat on the counter and listened intently as I sheepishly admitted that I make Pink Fluffy Stuff because it only has two ingredients and that makes it very difficult to mess up.
“The harder I try to cook, the worse cook I am!” I wailed, baring my cooking soul to the old soul at my kitchen counter.
“Lorry, Lorry, Lorry,” Marley said, spreading her fingers and waving her hands as if to calm me down.
“Cooking is not always about food,” the sassy 10-year-old stated in a tone that said she knew what she was talking about.
“Cooking is about relationships and making something to share with others. If your cooking tastes bad, it just means that you change the ingredients until it tastes good, and remember: food is always better when you make it with your heart.”
Right then, my attitude changed.
Those simple words from a wise child made me realize I was approaching cooking all wrong. According to my good friend Marley, when you cook for someone else or with someone else, it should always be about what is best for everyone. If what you make turns out wrong, you simply change the ingredients until you get it right.
Wish our politicians could have a cooking session with Marley.
You can reach Lorry at Lorrysstorys@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on Columbia Daily Tribune: Storytime: Smarter than a fifth-grader
