I always loved helping in the kitchen when I was a little girl, and at age three, it was my grandma I was helping. She always found something for me to do and never made me feel like I was underfoot.
The first thing I remember doing was drying the silverware when she washed dishes. I also remember that she let me eat little bites of raw ground beef. Of course the beef was straight from the butcher that day.
Mom spent time with me in the kitchen too, after I got a little older. My dad worked second shift, and we did a lot of special things together. The first thing I remember doing with her was making cut-out Christmas cookies. I got my own bit of dough to work with, plus assorted colors of powdered sugar and water frosting and all kinds of sprinkles. I guess I must have made a big mess. I remember mom saying that I worked that cookie dough until it was gray, and that my face was stained up with food coloring because I kept licking the icing off my fingers.
My girls weren't that interested in the day-to-day stuff...they had TV's. But we did do special projects, and homemade pizza was one of their favorites. We did it a lot for slumber parties...I'd make up a big batch of dough and get the toppings ready, and then let the girls go from there. Yes, it was a mess, but the kids had a ball.
When we got the grandson at age three, he was a disturbed little boy, and very hyperactive at first...but he loved kneading pizza dough, and it seemed very therapeutic for him.
We get by with a little help from our friends