Baking with my baby.

img_20161123_135450Fall/winter used to be my favorite times of year for basically one reason: Baking. I could use the oven without heating the whole house up, all my favorite shit to bake with is in season, and then I can give it all away afterwards.

Of course, this was all before my oven decided that the time to be a colossal piece of shit was upon us. Now, it no longer works, pretty much at all. I might be able to turn it on, but I might not, and even if I can get it to preheat correctly, there is simply no guarantee that it will stay on long enough to bake anything.

The upside to this is that I get a new oven. The downside is that it’s Christmastime and I don’t want to drop a lot of money on an oven when I could be buying Christmas presents for my kid (and my nieces and nephews who haven’t been liberated by CPS) and dogs.

Also, it fucks with my baking schedule.

Alas, tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and there are cheesecakes and sweet potato pies and pumpkin pies and possibly apple pies to be made, oven be damned.

So, here is my six-year-old daughter, pouring vanilla for a cheesecake. Which is in the oven. Probably baking, but just as likely just sitting there in the bain-marie, raw as fuck and forever inedible.

Such is life.

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