Caroline has been begging to make sugar cookies for days on end and I’ve been waiting for the right time. That time being a day when I didn’t feel like my head would explode from the inevitable disaster in the form of colored sugars and flour all over my kitchen floor.
Yesterday was that day.
She rolled out the dough with the grace and precision of a monkey after too many shots of tequila.
Then, once we had an assortment of baked gingerbread men, Christmas trees and snowmen ranging in thickness from paper thin to won’t cook in the middle if world peace depended on it, we began to make some icing.
Green icing.
I’ll be honest. It’s not a shade of green you would find in nature. It was more like a shade of green you’d find in some sort of congealed salad that your Aunt Millie makes for Christmas lunch.
We spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Christmas music, enjoying a fire in the fireplace and using enough sprinkles to cause a possible sprinkle shortage throughout the United States.
Let’s just say that I’ll be picking red and green sprinkles off the bottom of my feet well past Easter.
But all our hard work totally paid off.
Oh baby. If loving you is wrong, I don’t want to be right.
By the way, I don’t know who bit the top of that green tree off and put it back on the plate.
Probably some crazy lady who thinks of JFK, Jr. every time she’s in Walmart.