Friday, February 19, 2010

tiny pies (and the adventures of a grade-school bake sale)

as i approached the cafeteria door, it swung wide open, and the students parted into two lines, making a path for me to enter. silence fell, as they wondered, wide-eyed, what i had in those mysterious brownie pans. were they indeed brownies? cupcakes? muffins? i was, after all, adored, virtually worshiped for my gourmet creations. the crowd broke into cheers as i unveiled the--

oh, wait. that was all in my head, like an episode of "scrubs."

take two.

as i balanced the unusually long cookie sheet on top of the two brownie pans, i prayed and hoped i would, for once, be graceful and not drop anything. as we headed toward the gate to enter the school zone, where all the little people gathered, my heart raced.

last night, as soon as i had finished these little tiny morsels of gourmet goodness, i had begun doubting my bake sale choice. would 6-year-olds really choose a PIE over a cookie or donut, even if the pies were indeed tiny and cute?

and what about the grown-ups in the room? as we got closer and closer to the cafeteria door, i felt like everyone was staring at me. i could feel the students wondering: what is in those mystery pans anyway? why is this lady carrying so many pans instead of a bag of cookies, something we can devour in one bite with our bare hands?" (ok, maybe they wouldn't be thinking "devour" but i can hope that wordly wise is working for some of them.)

the cafeteria door opened, and a father of a classmate of gillian's held the door for me. "go ahead," he said. but i stood there, frozen, as literally dozens of students poured out the door on top of me, unaware of my existence.

why is it, by the way, that by the time kids enter elementary school, they gain the superpower of utterly ignoring an adult's presence? i wish i had this superpower, but alas i think it wears off by the time we enter high school. i could have used that power today.

i drew nearer the bake sale table and sat my pans down. and this is when i began saying, "we don't have to open these. i should have brought plastic spoons. i don't think i made the right dessert. i think i should have brought cookies."

to which i was greeted with, "oh! these look delicious! what are they?" this question was asked of the tiny apple pies, which i forgot to take a picture of, so you'll have to trust me that they are so freaking cute it's ridiculous.

i backed away, blushing, sweating, thinking, "i am so stupid. why do i get so worked up over small things like this?"

oh yeah, i am insecure. lucky for me, kids have another superpower: they don't notice the insecurity. they just see a mom carrying food and they don't care what it is: if it has sugar, they want to buy it.

so they love me! hooray! the bake sale is a success! because of course it's all about me, now isn't it?

as i made my grand exit, supermom cape flapping in the breeze, i tossed up a hand and waved good-bye over my shoulder. i would be back. next time, with more goodies and more self-assuredness in tow.

maybe it's hiding in my cape. i need to check that thing.

p.s. in case you want to make these awesomely adorable tiny pies, here are the links:

smitten kitchen's chocolate pudding pie
eggs on sunday's apple cup pies
and i really, really want to make these tiny pies in jars from our best bites.
happy baking!


Lisa said...

Isn't it amazing how we all really have the same insecurities? That could be me at any given time or even others. I think it's just how we learn to live with it (or not).

Keep wearing that cape, your blog.

kristi said...

you are so right, lisa. this is exactly why i was inspired to come home and write about it, because these thoughts are all swirling in my head as i am going through these motions. like "this is so stupid, why am i thinking these things?" i really think i should sew myself a cape and put it on when i'm feeling like this. i could sell them on etsy. ;)

Pixie said...

I completely believed your fantasy and wanted to be one of the little kids ready to gobble down your goodies. I virtually worship you for your gourmet creations... if we lived closer, I would literally worship them whilst eating!

elise said...

I would buy one of those capes! and pies!

meanwhile underneath all the self-doubt is the conviction that you have something imaginative and innovative to offer, and it's that self-confidence that brought those pies forth to the world. ROAR Kristi, Roar.

Inspiring post. And loved the fantasy beginning. Great writing!

sew nancy said...

good for you for making something different and those pies sound really good.
i'm thinking of a woody allen movie now with voices arguing back and forth in his head.
let's keep squashing those insecurities down
love you new picture too

Amelia Plum said...

your new picture is so lovely kristi. oh, your post put me right in your place, i get that insecure feeling so easily. but i'm glad that everything worked out alright, who wouldn't love an adorable little pie all there own. and that you did more than one type? i would have shown up with a big bag of chips ahoy, well maybe not that bad but close.

Hannah said...

They are so cute! They went over way better than the giant chocolate-chip cookies that I baked that morning and whisked into the cafateria while they were still warm...

Oh wait, I was dieing of the flu. I was to sick to stop at Publix and grab a bag of oreos. I figured no one wanted flu cookies anyways. Right? They are adorable Kristi!

Sara the sister said...

Kristi, you are an amazing siser! Wish I could've eaten one of those scrumptious creations. I remember the phone call from the grocery re: the tiny tin pans...and how they didn't have any & it was, what, 8pm??? How DO you pull all this off...