But then! I remembered a trinket I'd bought 12 months ago and stored away as an emergency 'gift' that might just just rescue me from my impending sense of doom...
... a children's pizza making kit, if you will!
Excitedly, Fern and I donned our aprons and (in Fern's case) chef's hat and I brought the little wooden step over to the counter so Fern could help me make pizza for dinner. From scratch, peeps!
But before I could channel my inner Nigella with my eldest offspring I remembered boy-o. Or rather, he remembered me. His toy tractors apparently were not going to distract him from pizza making, or indeed any other endeavour. He shoved my daughter aside and climbed the little step, reaching out with little paws to grab the pizza cutter... rolling pin... bag of flour...
Fern was in tears and Elliott made it clear if there was any action to be had, he wanted a part of it.
What to do?
But my husband's iPad was nearby and an idea struck. Typing 'make play dough' into Google came up trumps and I sighed with relief.
Strapping Elliott into his high chair and Fern into her seat I quickly threw the following ingredients from this decadently simple recipe into a bowl and stirred and kneaded madly for about 4.5 minutes, then foraged in the pantry for idle play dough plastic bits and pieces and threw them, along with two balls of gloriously handmade play dough onto the table for the kids.
And then I made pizza.
Elliott sat in that highchair for TWO HOURS and. didn't. whine. once.
Thank me later. ;)