Beneath my hip metropolitan image, there is a part of me that is a little country. I am trying to impart my country culinary preferences like grits, pickled okra, cornbread and molasses on to Max. So far, he is a molasses man. At my moms house we had it for breakfast every morning so it was no surprise that by the 5th day he jumped and yelped with glee just at the sight of the jar. In his enthusiastic dipping he managed to get some in his hair and had molasses mousse.
That one sticky tuft of hair stuck straight up until mom washed it out.
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