Big enough to make the cookies by herself, this time.
Cracked the eggs and cut the butter, I read the recipe card that she pointed to.
I took my place as she held her hand up, "No Mom, I can do it"
I wiped my hands on my apron while she measured a cup of flour, and then another.
I smiled when she snuck some chocolate, and then slid the bag out of her reach.
Every dollop of cookie dough on the sheet, pressed with her own tiny fingers.
There is nothing better than sharing cookies with your daughter
Who is growing taller and taller.
