Finger Licking Good!

The house is flooded with that warm, delicious home baking aroma. I made brownies tonight ... thank you Betty Crocker! I have no plans to eat them but - true confession time - I licked the spoon -- and the bowl -- and the spatula. I couldn't eat a brownie now if my life depended on it - I'm stuffed.

As I leaned over the sink happily licking my chocolate covered treasures I was reminded of other bowls and spatulas. With three other sibs to share the spoils with, as kids we were lucky to get a spoon to ourselves. Whoever won the bowl had to share it with at least one other. As a college student living away from home, it was a liberating experience to have the bowl to myself although it felt a little odd, as though there was someone I should be sharing with.

The self indulgence became history the moment I had little ones who claimed their rightful privilege. And as my mother before me, I negotiated equal  disbursement of the used baking utensils and settled disputes amongst the kidlets. I had my fingers and lips to lick!

So as I carefully removed the batter from the wooden spoon with my finger, and savoured the sweetness on my tongue, I couldn't help thinking how interesting life is. How a simple act of licking a spoon can trigger a flood of memories and emotions. It really is about the small things isn't it? These micro moments that when pieced together, paint the landscape of our lives.

And as for having the bowl all to myself ... well, that means my kidlets are all grown up and we've come full circle. But maybe - if I am really fortunate,  there will be a day when other little people march into my life who will claim the right to lick!  One can dream, can't she?