Chaos in an Industrial Kitchen

Yesterday may or may not have been the best day of wee Stella's entire life. 

All the little kids from her school came to her Papi's kitchen. They got to take a tour. Check out the big machines. See where the 900 litres of ice cream is produced. Checked out the gigantic ovens. Wave at chefs. 

 

And then they decorated cookies. With icing. And sprinkles. 

 

It was epic. 

 

And may I ask you, is there anything more adorable than a bunch of three-year-olds dressed in aprons and hairnets? (No. The answer is no.) 

{Though I do wonder if Mr. Chef made us wear hair nets for for reasons of hilarity and adorableness or for reasons of hygiene and food safety?}

 

 

After getting hopped up on sugar, Stella and a few buddies had lunch together (pasta all around, in case you're wondering.) And then, because this is Indonesia, they ran circles around the front of the restaurant, not at all heeding their parents' half-hearted pleas of "Inside voice, guys!" And no one cared because this is Indonesia and unruly children are, like, totally cool, so ladies, let's just eat our salads while our children run around like tiny demons and we'll just talk about about nap schedules in peace, okay? 

 

And then, because my child wasn't sufficiently exhausted, we went on an all-swimming-all-dancing playdate, ate broccoli soup, and then traversed the city in the back of a taxi cab.

 

Some days Jakarta just knocks it out of the park. 

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