Monday, December 24, 2007

Merry Christmas, cookie!

A couple weeks ago I volunteered to be a in a cookie exchange at work. That means you make a dozen cookies for each person who takes part in it, and they do the same then you all exchange. There were 7 people in the exchange including me so I had to make 6 dozen cookies. Volunteered, you guys. What was I thinking? I don't make cookies. I don't make anything. Why did I say I would do this?

I wrote my mom for her No Bake cookie recipe which requires no in-and-out-of-the-oven movements, and when she gave it to me she asked me why I needed it. I explained how apparently I had suffered from a moment of temporary insanity and volunteered to make cookies that other people would actually have to eat, and she was like, "Oh that sounds fun." A couple days later this happened:

A phone rings.
Me, answering: Hello?
My mom: Hey, honey. What day are you making those cookies?
Me: Saturday
My mom: Okay I'm going to come over.
Me, protesting: Mom! I can do it!
My mom, totally fake: No I know! You can do totally do this. I'm just going to come over and watch you. I mean, there's nothing to them, but I think I should be around.

With that vote of confidence, I went out to buy my ingredients last Saturday ready to show my mom that I could do this on my own. Less than a minute after getting to the store, I had to call her to find out where they kept the walnuts.

When she came over we began making them, and she really did just stand there and watch me do them. I was glad, though, because I could quickly identify several points in the cooking process where I would've completely freaked out on my own. Then my mom told me the story of how her grandmother taught her mother how to make these and then her mother had in turn taught her. It was really kind of cool to be a part of that, mothers and daughters bonding, and suddenly the cookies really became larger and more important than what they really were-they were my family history. As I was reflecting on this point and feeling the spirit of my grandma and great grandma before me, my mom, clearly trying to search for the right words to say at this poignant moment said, "Besides. It's time...I mean you...really need to.........learn how to cook. Anything."

P.S. Speaking of cookies, this past Saturday was another family bonding over cookies moment when we made my mom's famous cutout cookies and decorated them. I really felt the Christmas spirit, especially when my dad did this to the angel:




















As Drew then said, "That angel has a SWEET rack!"

P.P.S. MERRY CHRISTMAS! I hope everyone has an amazing holiday filled with family and love and hot chocolate and Christmas movies and X-rated baked goods! If you don't celebrate Christmas, have a fantastic December 25th, and you know what? I think you should enjoy some X-rated baked goods, too.

Feliz Navidad!

8 comments:

Fizzgig said...

I can cook. And I cannot make no bake cookies. I have never once made them when they were not soupy, grainy, or a large blob on the wax paper, or even, a chewy blob. So, making them edible is in fact, a great accomplishment! Merry Christmas!

Laura said...

yay cookies :) Found your blog from a post over on Johnny Virgil's blog and have enjoyed reading. Congrats on the cookies coming out for you...need to go make some w/ my munchkins.

Anonymous said...

Merry Christmas!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love,
AG

russ said...

Merry Holidays!

P.S. OMGWTFBBQ is that "Jacob" in the chair?? We have to go back! We should never have left!!!!!

Citygirl said...

That is so excellent! Now I want to make naughty cookies too!

Anonymous said...

Hope you had a great Christmas! Those cookies are hilarious

Anonymous said...

Are you sure that's an angel? Cuz, it looks more like a ghost to me.

Just sayin'

CruiserMel said...

Hey, angels can have boobs?? My mother always called me an angel, but I never had boobs. No fair. But wait, that does kind of look like a ghost....

Merry Belated Christmas and have a great New Year, too.

Can't wait to see the anatomically correct Cupid cookies at Valentine's Day.