For three evenings, our kitchen looked like a Halloween explosion. Lily made cookies in different shapes and flavors, pumpkin cupcakes, and all kinds of Halloween-themed treats decorated with frosting.
“Mom, don’t touch those!” Lily cried as I reached for a ghost-shaped cookie.
“I was just checking if it was ready.”
“With your mouth?”
“That’s how professionals do it.”
She laughed and pushed a plate of slightly crooked cookies toward me.
“Eat those. The pretty ones are for the fair.”
On the last evening, we practiced talking to customers.
“Hello, young lady!” I announced in my best elderly-lady voice. “I’ll take seventeen cupcakes, and I need them yesterday!”
“Mom!” Lily dissolved into giggles. “Nobody talks like that!”
“You haven’t met all our customers.”
Then I pretended to be a woman who couldn’t decide between two cookies for ten whole minutes.
Lily finally threw a dish towel at me.
