Napping Bread

A new baby has arrived at the babysitters.  ReeRee is in love.  She carries around a doll, Newt refers to as the “Chucky” doll, burps the baby, and wipes the baby’s bottom with all the spare napkins I had in my car. (Note the past tense- had.  Don’t spill anything in my vehicle.  We have nothing left to wipe up messes.) 

But her crowning moment is swaddling the baby in a towel, tossing him face down on the floor, and putting her finger to her lips.  “Shhhhhh, nigh, nigh, babee.”

I was planning ahead and making dinner rolls for the branding meal.  Anything that freezes easily is on the menu.  Working full time and trying to cook full time for branding doesn’t mesh well together.

ReeRee was helping.  By helping, I mean sloshing the yeast out of the bowl, eating the dough I gave her to knead, and dropping the dough on the floor.  “Whoopee,” and she would climb off the chair to retrieve her dough.  (We will not feed these to the branding crew.  We fed the dropped rolls to Newt. hehe.)

After kneading the dough to a silky smooth texture, I shaped the dough into a ball and tossed it into the greased bowl.  ReeRee added her small piece on top.  “Great, we are all done.”  “All done,” the small head of curls echoed.  “Now it is time for the bread to rest.”  ReeRee’s head popped up.  She looked at me, she looked at the dough.

“Shhhhhh.  Bread.  Nigh nigh.”  She placed a towel over the dough. 

ReeRee clammered down off the chair and headed for her crib.  She and the bread both napped for a good hour.

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