When the mixer’s taken from its home
Behind its cupboard door,
Two little children soon appear
Upon my kitchen floor.
“We want to help” I hear them shout –
With smiles upon their faces:
And bit by bit ingredients come
From several hidden places.
Flour, sugar, eggs and marg
Blend to the mixer’s beat:
And the end result is put in tins,
And meets the oven’s heat.
So that’s the end? The work is done?
We’ve almost reached our goal?
“Oh no no no!” two voices shout:
"We want to scrape the bowl."
For every child that’s ever lived
Baking means one goal:
Before the washing up begins,
They love to scrape the bowl.
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