So, I make a mean sugar cookie. When I was, ah, "younger", I started making cookies to bring to every party. Over time the parties started to be at my house. Problem was everyone still wanted the cookies. So, I still do the cookies, about 6-8 dozen, to spread over all the parties. It's a job! My kids like to be involved in that stuff, and I'm generally a fan of including them. I want them to be able to go off in the world and do this stuff with their own kids. There will be 10 or 12 of them, some biological and some adopted. I will buy all their clothes so they will always be matching. They all dance too. We all live in the same neighborhood, my house is the gathering house. I’m independently wealthy. Oh yeah, Mark’s there too. He’s still working to pay for the grandkids dance. Oh my, I think I just nodded off. Back to cookies. Yesterday I just wanted them done. I wasn’t feelin’ the whole everyone in the kitchen thing. I told my inner control freak to sip her coffee and sit on the couch, and I would handle the kids and cookies. So the big girls each got a cutting board, rolling pin, and ball of dough.
The first batch was painful. Too thick, too thin. It turns they been paying attention though. Once they got their groove on they pretty much did the whole thing. They rolled and cut, and I manned the stove. In fact, I even left Adrienne to finish the last batch because I had a lunch date! They were really helpful, and I love that.
Adrienne did a lot of the frosting.
Lexi made some “special” ones for Santa(hope he likes sprinkles).
Sof frosted her first cookies too. Apparently she takes after Lexi because she kept saying “more sprinkles”!
How sweet are these little hands? Tiny, chubby, fingers that try to do big girl things.
Maybe this isn’t such a job after all?