It started as a quiet afternoon—sunlight poured through the windows, the kitchen was spotless, and Mom Lan Anh was sipping tea. But little did she know, something sweet was about to happen.
Lala, with a determined look and a wagging tail, had a plan.
She had watched Mom bake cookies so many times and decided it was her turn to try. With a small apron tied around her belly and flour dusting her nose, Lala climbed onto her step stool and got to work.
First, she measured the flour—well, sort of. A little spilled here, a little there, but most of it made it into the bowl. Then came the sugar, eggs, and just a dash of milk. Lala stirred carefully, her little paws gripping the spoon with impressive focus.
She even remembered to preheat the oven! (With a little help from the reminder note Mom always left taped nearby.)
The smell of buttery dough filled the air.
When Mom walked into the kitchen, she froze. Her eyes widened at the sight: Lala standing proudly, tongue out, next to a tray of perfectly baked golden cookies cooling on the counter.
“Lala?! You made these?!” Mom gasped.
Lala barked with pride, tail spinning like a helicopter. She nudged one cookie toward Mom, urging her to take a bite.
Mom took a nibble—and her eyes lit up. “Delicious! Soft and sweet, just like you!”
Lala beamed.
That day, the kitchen became more than a place to eat. It became a space of discovery, laughter, and a sprinkle of flour-filled magic.
Because when Lala puts her heart into something, even cookies come out extra special.
