Note the time on the stove. Yep. I started at 3:30 and went for nine hours. Good freaking grief.
I found this picture of my brother with cookies we made when we were little. Two damn sheets was all we made back then and we were completely happy because we didn't know any better. Plus - my mom had us to help her decorate!
Kevin looking cute - circa 1984
Nowadays it's just me and the dog in the kitchen and the dog isn't much help except for keeping me company and giving me something to talk to besides myself. And the only reason he sticks around is because two years ago we left him alone with the cookies that had been left out to dry and he managed to eat EIGHT giant stockings. We came home to find a bare spot on the table, a crumbled piece of wax paper on the floor that had been licked clean, and a coconut retriever with red frosting all over his snout.
The scene of the crime. The dog is conspicuously absent. I think he was hiding in the basement.
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