What we see here is the beginnings of a great cook.

Lynné reports that Lily did precise measurements of each ingredient, but hid those measurements from adult eyes with carefully choreographed shaking motions, and waiting until her back was turned...
At the end of the baking process, one which included a few questions of morality (can cookies taste morally good?) and philosophy (what is a good cookie?).
Enter the daddy.

After the third taste flight of the cookies (intended pun), his posture has bent in half. Whether this was due to fatigue from the day, the staggering work of signing his pay check, or from the sheer weight of glucose and fructose (from the raisins) rushing to his head, Lily's studies were inconclusive. Yet a measurable effect was occurring... with each cookie, the daddy's ability to stand was inhibited.
until...

At this point, in the experiment, the subject could no longer be controlled. Demands of "Bring me more!" and "Next cookie, please" increased in both frequency and volume. Obliging, the aproned scientist saw to her moral, philosophical, and artistic duty.

After another few minutes of ferrying cookies to the subject's mouth, the scientist realized that a limit must soon be reached. With no more cookie inventory, how could she publish her findings? How could she test future subjects with only a handful of cookies.
So, her work on the daddy had come to an end. Yet, after a bit of curiosity,
LilyAnne Miranda succumbed to her own creation's alluring scent. A cook's work seems never done, and doubly so for the experimental cook. Tomorrow's spices will be next year's recipes. Reviews would need to be written, and so would a recipe (still hidden from adults in cryptic crayon scrawlings would do).
With all these responsibilities starting to pile up, what better way for LilyAnne to relax than having one of her own cookies?
Note, though, how she's not standing either.