Chicken Helper

Yesterday CN5 and I had a task to complete, Bake tiny loaves of bread for everyone in our church.  Sounds easy enough right?  Big.  Fat.  WRONG!!  Maybe if the chicken helper was a few years older.  Or maybe if the chicken helper had better "listening ears".  or maybe, just maybe if the chicken helper was not, well, Kayle.   But that is what I had, one little chicken helper by the name of Kayle.  So we set about our task and this is what followed....

Getting the milk out of the fridge....
"I HELP MOMMA"

Getting the eggs out of the fridge...
"I HELP MOMMA!!"
annnnnnnnnd SPLAT!!  An egg falls and breaks on my lovely kitchen carpet, we really do need to replace the flooring in there.

Putting the bread in the oven...
"I HELP MOMMA!!!  OHHHHHHH HOT!!!  NO HELP!!  IT BUUUUUUURRRRRRNS ME!!"
Well, at least he remembers one thing I taught him.

Turning my back to get something, I turn back around to see two tiny hands reaching up and playing in the flour we had just measured for the next batch.

And lastly, the first freshly baked loaves set on the counter to cool.  Little hands reaching to touch I say "No, they are hot and they are not for your fingers."  Then the phone rings.  Its my husband.  He REALLY has bad timing sometimes.  I go to answer it and return to the kitchen to see one little chicken leaning over the counter and take a bite out of the bread.  Welp, he didnt "touch" them...

While a little chicken helper was in time out I did take a picture of the loaves in question with TWO little bite marks out of them.  Yup, the middle loaf was "safe".