The kids are alright

Recently, the hospital where I've been studying Mindfulness, rang to offer me a place in their class for advanced students.
I was busy at the time, so returned the registrar's call a bit later.
"I'm ringing to accept the position in the Advanced Masterclass," I said rather breathlessly, before we both burst into laughter.
It was around the time of this year's original Masterchef finals, and clearly we'd both been watching just a little too closely.
So here it is: I am a Masterchef junkie.
 I love the passion for food, the pressure tests, the inventions. I love the back stories of all the 'characters' - because although this is reality telly, we all know it is managed and edited to a degree to present the most interesting television.
I love that this was a show that I could pretty much watch with the kids (although they couldn't watch the whole thing on school nights, it went on much too late), with little swearing, and no sex (unless you count the sometimes lascivious expressions on the judges' faces as they tasted the food.)
And it piqued the interest of my little ones, who already loved cooking and tasting food.
Mr 9 desperately wanted me to apply for him to go on Junior Masterchef.
This I did, with some misgivings, because as a Mum, I didn't know if it would be something I would want to expose him to. (Miss 7 was too young). There was a disclaimer that successful applicants would need to take x amounts of weeks off school as well. And if he'd been accepted, I would have had to talk to his Dad and principal about this.
To my relief, our application was rejected. This was possibly because Mr 9 has a life-threatening allergy to nuts - and I note in the 'sneak peeks' one of the kids makes a macadamia-encrusted chicken or something. Or the fact that C. has Aspergers. Aspergers means he is obsessive about a few things, cooking being one of them, but can find a change in routine extremely challenging.
C. loves to help me prepare the evening meal, and will often cook breakfast on the weekend or on holidays - omelettes are a speciality.
C. and H. will often do a "Masterchef cook-off" on a Sunday, where they insist I stay in bed (which I kind of do, getting up now and then to help them find ingredients and pans),  before plating up two meals for my enjoyment.
Of course, I can't possibly eat all that, so I taste a little, pronounce my verdict (they are both winners in some way), and let them demolish the rest.
Miss 7's favourite cooking area is baking - biscuits, slices, muffins and puddings - while Mr 9 prefers savoury - omelettes, French toast, helping create my famous lasagne.
They are both waiting eagerly for Junior Masterchef to begin, and will give their expert kiddie commentaries on this blog.

So readers, would you let your children go on Masterchef? And if so, why?

Our famous lasagne. Good enough to eat! (Well, that's kind of the idea...)