Isaac woke up this morning and decided to make cinnamon rolls for a break-the-fast after church today. We couldn't find the masculine aprons; only my grandma's apron. Where did he get all of this domesticity? I'm such a lucky woman.
The kids wanted to help, of course.
Spreading the brown sugar...
Cutting the rolls with dental floss...
Risen rolls, ready to bake...
7 comments:
Wow...that is too awesome for words! I wonder if Tyler would let me take a picture of him in my apron and post if for all the world to see...I'll have to ask :) Those rolls look delicious , I missed them though, I love a good cinnamon roll!
That looks exactly like how my mom makes them! I know Isaac is far to secure with his own masculinity to care about a little apron. They look really good!
Dang you sexy! I wish I had apples on my apron. I went with John Deere tractors instead. Again, dang you sexy.
They look yummy!!! But you had to go and ruin it with raisins!
It's so funny how similar our lives are sometimes. Not that Ben has ever worn a frilly apron or made cinnamon rolls, but the picture with all the girls on the stool and Maddie is trying to climb up too. That so could have been taken at my house yesterday while we were making cookies. Claire just can't stand it that the big kids get to see what's going on and she can't.
Guess what? Ben will probably be assessing for 160th in August (of course it will be right when I'm due). And we'll know at the end of the assessment if he gets a job there starting the next year. We may be coming back to Fort Campbell! So you guys better not go anywhere...
YUM!
I love the apron and the cinnamon rolls look great. I'm afriad that most of my family would pick out the raisins though. A couple of years ago Sam's parents were on a mission at Christmas time and he was missing his mom's cinnamon rolls so he learned how to make them. Now he does it every Christmas, and thay are amazing. He doesn't have a super cute apron though. I'll have to do something about that. There's something about a man in an apron.(o:
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