We baked yesterday. I’d offer you some cookies, but you’d have to sign a disclaimer first. You’d have to not mind how the knife used for frosting was licked in between each cookie. You’d have to be cool that someone who wiped their nose on the back of their hand, also rolled the dough.
But enough about me.
The kids had a riot. By 9PM (they are usually in bed by 8:00) I thought maybe I should feed them some dinner. Some real food. I prepared a simple meal, and when I went to put Annie’s Goddess Dressing on Riley’s spinach, I unscrewed the lid, and the contents of the bottle spurt forth, all over the trays of the meticulously decorated cookies on the kitchen table. I could not believe it. Never before had Annie’s exploded. Why now? Why Annie? Had we offended the Goddess in some way? So many cookies had to be tossed. That dressing really flew. I thought I’d thouroughly cleaned up, but this morning I found splatters of it on the wall, on the water cooler, and on the floor. Who knows where else I’ll find it.
Luckily we were able to salvage many cookies. The cuts outs are Christmas shapes but the decorations are a bit unconventional since they are all organic/non-GMO (can’t vouch for the marshmallows or the Sun Drops, so Seth isn’t eating those).
Here is Seth, making some wrapping paper for the gift he gave to his teacher. I was in a bind, and did not have time to run out to the store for gift wrap. He rose to the occassion. I can always count on my boy. He specializes in skinny legged Santas.
He is literally bouncing off the walls, and climbing up them, happily anticipating Christmas. Riley too.
The air is filled with joy. Christmas carols play. Our kids are young and innocent.
These are the good old days.