Normally I'm the one to find a recipe to make for the Pickles:
I whip out the ingredients. I mix it up, the Pickles watch and take turns helping. I bake it and the Pickles watch the oven patiently. I serve it and the Pickles eat it.
It's been a fine process with no complaints.
And then I overheard myself say this the other day: "Hey, Pickle! I found a recipe I want you to try!"
I stopped. Did I really just voice those very words? In that moment, I realized that an era had passed; the tables had been turned. The watching, the practicing have paid off. I knew that day would come, but it felt so far in the distance. The process of training is so slow and steady with only teensy daily investments that sometimes you forget how long you've been doing it. You know those investments will come to fruition, but you don't know when
. And suddenly, that day arrives.
That day we experienced a new kind of normal:
The Pickle whipped out the ingredients. The Pickle mixed it up and I assumed the role-reversal of watching and helping only as needed. The Pickle baked it, and we all watched the oven impatiently. The Pickle served it and we all ate it.
That day tasted pretty good.
Want to know what the recipe was?