Muffins

Once a week I’ve been getting up at 5 a.m. to bake muffins. I feel like a pioneer woman cooking breakfast before dawn for my family.

I then get my 8-year-old son up and we head east for a day at an alternative wilderness school. I like that he’s full of warm, healthy muffins for his day of wild weather in the woods.

Last week I baked banana muffins. The kitchen was full of the warm smell of baking when my son stumbled downstairs.

“There are muffins in the kitchen when you’re dressed,” I tell my sweetly rumpled boy.

He looks at me, his face starting to tremble.

“Every Thursday – it’s muffins, muffins, muffins,” he cries, his voice thick with tears.

So much for being a pioneer woman.

The ungrateful child chose a box of stonewheat crackers over homebaked muffins, and we bundled into the car for a day in the woods.

They were really good muffins, too.