When Eli was told to get a job, instead of doing the normal Robertson kid job of saving lives and administering health care to those in need, she went to our family fave sammy shop and got a job making sandwiches. This worked out great because at least once a week the whole family would go together for lunch and heckle Eli while she stood behind the counter taking the orders we barked at her.
They did not interview her for this job. They just gave it to her.
She called today to tell me she has an interview at a cupcake shop down the road.
While it completely baffles me why anyone would need to interview to make cuppies, I wished her good luck. She'll need it. For while she may have been talented at putting mayonnaise on a piece of French bread, she's not the brightest baker in the oven. Then, in sisterly love fashion, I reminded her of the time she read the recipe calling for 3 T(ablespoons) of tomato paste as 3 CANS of tomato paste. Or the time she thought the list of ingredients were optional, not necessary. But my fave dish Eli baked up? The eyeball cake.
Yes my friends. Eli decided to bake a BOX cake one day. She put it all in the bowl, mixed it up and popped it in the oven. After about 10 minutes she noticed the egg still sitting on the counter and realized she had forgotten to put it in the box cake mix. So she did what any normal person would do (keep in mind this is the same girl who stabbed herself in the foot, or was it her hand, while barreling down the interstate during rush hour traffic) and opened the oven, cracked the egg, and set it back to baking. When time was up, we had a delish chocolate cake complete with a giant yellow eye ball staring back at us.
Hopefully she'll play up her assets at this interview and not tell them she has a problem paying attention to details.