Eatin' my humble pie

Today, my new neighbor came over so that we could make homemade bread together. See, we had them over for dinner last week and had chicken noodle soup and french bread... bread that I made from scratch. She couldn't believe that I make bread. I was, "amazing" in her words. How could I manage to take care of four kids AND make homemade bread? So feeling all proud of me and my bad self, I told her it was easy, and I could absolutely teach her how. Wheat bread, white bread, french bread, sourdough... what was her fancy?

When she arrived, I welcomed her in to my home, feeling confident and capable and much like Martha Stewart about to bestow gifts of domestic bliss and wonder on the unlearned. But first, I had to expertly whisk my baby off to bed for his morning nap. He smiled and waved as I carried him back to the bedroom, and went right to sleep without a peep. My neighbor made a comment about what a good a baby he was and how wonderful it was that he took such great naps. I laughed off her compliment and made some vague reference to years of parenting experience and expertise. I mean really, what would you expect from someone as capable and "amazing" as me? (You are getting the sarcasm, aren't you?)

Then, we made the bread. I instructed, I gave tips, I explained what works and what doesn't. I shared my many experiences because all joking aside, I have actually been making bread for a long time. After setting the dough to rise, we had a nice chat about how you don't actually have to be afraid of yeast... it isn't really that scary, it's easy to make great homemade bread.

While she went to check on her baby (her first... a little boy two months old that is so adorable it makes me want another baby... okay, maybe not right away, but he's so stinkin sweet!), I went to check on the rising wonder that is MY homemade bread. Imagine my surprise when I turned back the dishcloth covering the dough to find a nice smooth ball of dough exactly the same size as it was an hour ago. Oh dear. My neighbor came and looked over my shoulder.

"Ummm, isn't it supposed to rise and get bigger?"

Uh, yeah. It is supposed to. But I totally got schooled by the wicked beastly creature that is yeast. And I'm thinking my massive ego didn't do much to assist the baking process.

Fortunately, my neighbor is wonderfully forgiving and laughed off the entire experience. I believe our budding friendship will survive. It is after all, much better for our friends to know us for what we are. We are human. Especially me. Though it was nice, for that brief moment in time before I enjoyed a delicious slice of humble pie, to think that I actually was the Grand Master of all things Good and Domestic.

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