Yesterday I let the superkid make his own poffertjes. He loves having them for desert. When I was kid we used to make our own, sometimes, in a big round cast-iron poffertjespan with small round indents all over, where the poffertjes mix had to be put in, with a little butter. If I remember correctly, the big heavy pan had to be put on the fire and when the mix was almost cooked and not yet quite solid they had to be turned over with a fork to give the top side a golden brown colour the same as the bottom side, and then eaten with butter and powdered sugar. We didn't do that often because it is a messy process and inevitably necessitates a "spring cleaning" of the kitchen afterwards which interferes in a disastrous manner with the the daily schedule of a working mother.
I do own a poffertjespan. But nowadays we buy the poffertjes ready made and heat them up in the microwave, just apply butter and sugar to eat. A piece of cake. Easy as pie. The superkid, however, still manages to end up with the kitchen in a mess comparable to the old days when we splattered around with semi-liquid mix and frying butter. I had been working on a drawing when he was busy. After I was finished I found the kitchen strewn with random disconnected items he had dug out of the fridge in his quest for some butter. The paper covering the butter was on the floor, buttered side down.
As I was cleaning it, seeing him slouched on the couch watching tv, not conerned at all with the mess he had left me, I did not think that distribution of tasks was right, so I gave him something to do and let him dry the cups and dishes. I am quite used to his exclamations and complaints trying to wiggle out of a task like that, but he had a new one...
He could not dry the cups, because: "I can't get inside with my big hand".
Anyway he has got two left ones!