To translate:"I love my Mom. I think she bakes good. And you will too, when you eat it. Cookies, bread, biscuits, too. That's why I love her."
This all started the week before Thanksgiving, when the neighbor kid was over for lunch, partaking in PB&J on homemade bread. She was astounded to be eating ACTUAL HOMEMADE BREAD. When she said that her Mom doesn't bake, Theo was flabbergasted. He just assumed that moms bake. Many of my friends do, so that's kind of what he knows. He just can't wrap his brain around the idea of having a mom that doesn't bake, so several times since that day he has mentioned how glad he is that I "bake him stuff". But this paper just Cracked. Me. Up.
