He wasn't sneaking cookies, he was making them! When my brother sent baked goods, he also sent three unopened bags of mint chocolate chips. I decided those chips needed to find their purpose :) When I pulled out the mixer (thanks Sis!), Little G guessed at my intent and was more than happy to help. Good Gravy Marie these cookies are tasty! Dangerously tasty . . . like fudge cake with gooey mint filling . . . drool, drool.
Anyway, my little ninja (though, yes we know that technically ninjas were the lowest class of "warrior" in Japanese society and it was actually the Samurai who were respected; well except for the 100 years the country experienced uninterrupted peace when they were closed off from the rest of the world and mostly just ate cookies and forgot how to use their weapons, until the Western world came knocking at their door, and they were like, "Uh oh! they have things that shoot . . . our swords aren't going to help much anymore" and so G should probably strive more toward pre-peace samurai than post-peace ninja), assisted with the ingredient selection, addition, and even the scoops of dough placement on the pans (though technically he was not yet dressed as a ninja . . . that came later for the eating of the deliciously minty chocolate cookies).
Wow, that might be my longest and most confusing sentence yet! Nephews, I'll give you a quarter if you can read the whole thing out loud without taking a breath OR passing out. Sis, you keep track . . . hee hee :)
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