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I decide to have that little party at our house the Saturday after the pageant for all the older kids who helped to make it run smoothly.  This group is fairly small, including only Yoon, Melody, my own kids, and Emmie along with four other teenagers, including Heath.  Emmie, Kookie, and Janna helped only the night of the pageant since their recent afternoons were spent working on their own musical.

The big day arrives quickly, on the heels of that magnificent performance, and I sit down at the kitchen table to plan this evening’s party.  Honestly, I’m tired and wondering why I decided to do this.  I’m going to have to go shopping for food items and then also muster up the energy to cook for this tiny crowd. 

I glance up as Kookie wanders into the kitchen.  His hair is sticking out in several directions as he rubs the sleep from his eye with his fist.  He is absolutely adorable.  Even still half-asleep.

“Good morning, Kookie,” I whisper gruffly before clearing my throat.  I’ve been awake for less than ten minutes.  And I haven’t had my tea yet.

But apparently, I need it.  So I stand up and cross the room to liberate a large coffee cup from the cabinet before filling it with water and placing it into the microwave.  As I push the button to begin a two-minute cooking process, I hear the old Jungkook speaking in my imagination.

“You’re going to use that dangerous monstrosity while I’m in the kitchen with you?  You know I don’t trust microwaves.”

“No, Jungkook, what I heard is that the fearless boy is afraid of microwaves.  Is it true?”

But, of course, I don’t ask Kookie that.  He’s been raised in an American household with a microwave his entire life.  He has no fear of microwaves, real or imagined.

“Mom, you’re up earlier than I expected you to be.”  He glances at the table.  “Looks like you’ve already got a project going.  What is it?”

I yawn as I reach for a tea bag.  Then I turn around and smile at him.  “It’s my list for Wal-Mart.  I’m hosting that post-pageant party tonight for all the older kids who helped, remember?  I have to figure out what to cook and then go shopping.”

He grimaces.  “Don’t you just want a break?  You’ve been on the go all week.  We didn’t make it home any night this week before eight o’clock.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, throwing a party this close to Christmas and in between two performances.  I just want to go back to bed.”

“Mom, why don’t you make your list, and then I can go do the shopping for you while you take a nap?”

I glance at his earnest face, and my heart melts.  “What would I do without you?” I whisper as I cross the room to kiss his cheek.  “You are an absolute darling.  I will do just that.  Thank you.”

I gaze down at the paper.  “Kookie?”

“Hmm?” he asks as the microwave beeps.  

I retrieve my cup and add the tea bag before setting a two-minute timer.  “What should I cook for tonight?”

“The question is: what should we cook for tonight?  You’ve got a whole crew here to help: me, Janna, Emmie.  Even the boys can help get ready for tonight.”

Ah, yes, Kookie is reminding me why I had a whole army of kids.   Of course, without them there would be no need for a party tonight either.  But what fun would life be then?

“Thank you, sweetheart.  I will accept all the help I can get.  But don’t you have a pile of homework to do?”

“Nah.  It’s not too bad.  Our teachers are being nice because they know a lot of us are deep into play practice each night.”

“And the rest of you are on the basketball team.”

“True,” he nods.  “Though, I’ve noticed teachers have more compassion for actors than athletes.  I think they see the musical as somewhat academic.  Whereas sports is just, well, sports.”

“Ah, yes, the bane of every teacher’s existence.  Sports.”  I smile at him as I remove my tea bag from my cup before adding sweetener.  Then I wander over to the table and sit down.

“What do you want for breakfast?” my adorable eldest asks me.

“Kookie!  You’re going to make me breakfast?”

“Why not?” he shrugs.

“In that case, I’ll have homemade coffeecake, eggs, bacon, hash browns…”

“Mom!”  Now he’s laughing.

“What?” I ask, in mock innocence.  “You don’t want to cook that much?”

He shakes his head.  “Not really.  Your coffeecake does sound good.  Do we have any buttermilk?”

“Nearly half a gallon.  I just bought some.”

“Excellent.” He retrieves all of the ingredients and brings them to the table.  As I watch him measure out flour, brown sugar, and salt, I ask him, “So what’s on the menu for dinner tonight?”

“Something easy,” he answers. “What about a crockpot meal?  Barbecue chicken tenders?”

“Ah, Kookie!  You are brilliant!  I knew there was a reason I asked you for help.  Barbecue chicken.”  I jot it down on one piece of paper and then add chicken tenders to my other sheet of paper.

“Hmm.  Let’s see.  We could make homemade rolls,” I suggest a perennial favorite.

“Yes!” His face lights up.  

He loves my homemade rolls.  So do I.  So does everyone.  They’re the product of my grandma’s recipe from long ago.  From the cookbook that came with her first mixer, I think.

“And potato casserole.  Maybe an apple crisp?” I add.

“With vanilla ice cream!”  Now his eyes light up.  “Just jot down everything you need,” he instructs me, “and I’ll head straight to the store.”

“Hmm.  All the ingredients for the potato casserole.  I’ll have to check the recipe.  A couple bags of apples and a gallon of vanilla ice cream.”

“A gallon?”

“Well,” I tease him.  “I am feeding you.  And I’m assuming Lyric will be here too.”

Kookie chuckles.  “Too true, Mom.  Too true.”

I finish compiling a list of ingredients we need while Kookie assembles the coffeecake.  He pops it into the oven a few minutes later before heading to his room to change.

“Hey, Kookie,” I grab his attention before he slips through the doorway, “don’t forget to comb your hair before you head to the store.”

He grimaces.  “Bedhead, huh?”

“Just a little,” I smile.  “But you look absolutely adorable.”

“Ehh.  Somehow, I doubt that.  You’re the only one who would think so, Mom.”

As he disappears, I reflect on how untrue that statement is.  I do, in fact, know a whole ARMY that would love to see him with his hair sticking out every which way.  And would spend the rest of the day cooing over how cute he is while they Tweet any pictures of that adorable event to as many people as possible.  Even to people who don’t care one whit whether Jungkook’s hair is defying gravity this morning.