2 1/2 cups flour
1 1/4 cup salt
1 1/2 TBS cream of tartar
(I didn't have enough so I put in an unknown amount and it seemed to work. Other than drive up the cost of homemade play dough, I don't really know what cream of tartar does)
5 TBS vegetable oil
(I had a thought while doing this...would it be nice to add some essential oils and make scented play dough, or am I making this more ridiculous than it needs to be?)
Put all of the above in a pot and cook it on low heat. I stirred it like a mad woman because I was afraid I would burn it. It started out like a Cream Of soup. Then lumps began to form. Then so many lumps formed that before I knew it there was a ball of dough in my sauce pan. Next you take the ball and divide it into however many lumps as colors you want. I didn't wait for the dough to cool. I am an idiot. I kneaded the food color into the hot dough balls and PRESTO!
Making play dough is the kind of stuff I obsessed over when I had just Enzo and Clara. I believed that making the play dough from scratch was going to accelerate my children's intellectual, emotional, social, tactile, and quite possibly, spiritual development. If someone perfects time travel someday the first thing I'm doing is going back in time and punching myself in the face. Then I'll pour my past self a Big Slam of Riesling and say Woman, it's PLAY DOUGH. Get a f#@%ing grip.
So why am I making play dough at this point in my life when I know there is a three pack waiting for me at the Dollar Tree? The answer is simple. Today it seemed like the easiest way out. It is one degree outside and all of the kids are home today. Dorothy asked if she could use her little rolling pins and my cookie cutters with the play dough Santa brought her. Well, THAT play dough has long since been mashed into the rug, dried, chiseled out with a butter knife, and vacuumed up. So I returned to my old homesteading self, but not to prove anything, or improve anything. Simply because I had s#!t to do and if Dorothy would play with play dough and get out of my way then we needed some dough!!!
What is that saying about the best plans of mice and men? Well, yeah...that. While I whipped up play dough so that I could get some chores done Dorothy and Israel scattered dried beans and STAPLES all over the kitchen floor. They took out my pots and pans a spatulas. They jabbed me with picture books and asked for my help with their Magic Bean Soup every few seconds. Then when the play dough was done they were SO happy they wanted to share their joy with me. We rolled at patted. We squished and cut. We had a great time. The dough came out better than any I had made in my prime neurotic years but I didn't get a single thing done!
Or did I?