Rice Krispie treats in a pan lined with wax paper.
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Yesterday, M. and I made Rice Krispie Treats.  We have been planning to for a while, having bought the ingredients some time last week, but hadn’t had a chance.  Yesterday, I got sick of looking at the box of cereal and bag of marshmallows sitting on my counter, and got moving.

Step One:  Heat butter/margarine in large pot.

I put our stew pot on the stove and measured the butter.  M. picked it up and dropped it into the pot, and I turned the heat on low.  I reminded M. not to touch the pot or the stove.

“Can we stay here and wait while the butter melts?” she asked, standing on her step-stool.

“Sure.  It shouldn’t take long.”

Step Two: Add a bag of marshmallows to the butter to melt, stirring continuously.

While we waited for the butter to melt, I explained to M. what the recipe involved.  I measured out four of the needed six cups of cereal into a measuring cup.

“Can I feel them?”  M. asked, fascinated by a cereal she hadn’t seen before.

“Ok, just don’t crush them all up. ”

The butter was nearly melted, and I watched as M. poked at the cereal in the measuring cup.  I turned to grab the bag of marshmallows to add them in next, when out of the corner of my eye I saw M. start to dump the four cups of cereal into the butter.

“No!” I yelled, grabbing the measuring cup before she could pour them all in.

Rice Krispies went everywhere.  They were on the stove, the floor and in the pot with the butter.

“I’m sorry!” said M.

“It’s ok,” I said, quickly calming myself down.  “We’ll just start fresh.”

I rinsed out the pot, and put it on the stove again.

Step One:  Heat butter/margarine in large pot.

Step Two: Add a bag of marshmallows to the butter to melt, stirring continuously.

We got through step one successfully this time.  She had only actually poured out about a quarter of a cup.  I added the marshmallows.  M. watched in fascination as they melted.  That lasted for thirty seconds and then she wandered off into the living room while I stirred.

Step Three:  Remove pot from burner.  Add six cups of cereal, stirring quickly to combine. 

I let M. pour in the cereal (again), and she stirred the first four cups while I measured out two more.

“I’m being very careful, Mama,” she said.

“Good girl.”

Step Four:  Spread into a 13×9-inch pan.  Cool completely before cutting.

“Can we eat them now?”

“No, but you can have the spatula and eat the pieces stuck to it.”  I handed it to her, and she started eating.

“These are AWESOME!” she squealed, jumping up and down.  She ran off into the living room with her prize while I cleaned up.

Cooking with M. is always fun.  She loves all the measuring and pouring.  She loves to stir.

My older two kids did when they were little too.  My son now cooks on his own, or together with me.  My older daughter likes to try out new spice combinations and is trying to learn what goes together and what doesn’t.

Some of my favorite memories are of my dad cooking while I stood in the kitchen with him talking.  He would show me what he was doing or give me cooking tips while we talked.  I think it is important to do things like this with your kids.  Spending time with them is terrific.  Teaching them to cook means they won’t starve when they move out, or subsist on Ramen and PBJ.

When the treats were done, I cut them into squares and called M. in. She bit into the first one, and her face lit up.

“We made these good!” she said.