Kitchen Nazi

Charlie had his head buried in a new book yesterday and Sage was at loose ends, so I suggested he help me mix up a batch of chocolate chip cookies. For six years old, he's a fairly proficient cook and can crack eggs without adding shells to the batter. So we mixed up a batch. He even used the cookie scoop to lay them out on the baking sheet.

But when I opened the oven to slide the first tray of cookies in, Sage was disturbed.

"Grandma, why do you have that pan in the bottom of your oven?" he demanded.

"It's not a pan, Sage. It's a cast iron skillet and it's there so when I bake my French Bread, I pour water in it and it steams the bread, giving it a nice crunchy crust."

"But you're not making bread. We're baking cookies."

"True. But I'm not adding any water to it. It will be fine."

"I wish you'd take it out," he stated firmly. "I find it disturbing!"

So this morning, while cleaning up the kitchen, I took the offensive skillet out of the oven. Think Sage will notice on his next kitchen excursion?