She wants me to approve more time on YouTube, so she can find a cupcake recipe. Denied.
“Use a cookbook,” I suggest, suspecting this may put an end to the idea to bake something altogether, suspecting the idea was to secure another hour of phone time.
She disappears into the kitchen, and I can hear her pull a book down and open its pages. I suggest she locate “cupcakes” in the index, but she insists that she needs the table of contents. I don’t dispute this decision, and I decide, in that moment, to let her do what she will and to stop making suggestions.
Several minutes later I can see that she has arrayed all her ingredients on the countertop, and I decide it’s okay to ask one more question. “What are you making?”