Where the Cookie Crumbles (or disappears to)

We have made it a tradition in our family to bake gingerbread ornaments for our tree every year. We have done it a bit differently each year, with different shaped cutters and what not, and most recently Steph has been using the alphabet to make each of our names to hang on the tree. Its kind of fun, the kids enjoy it, and I think it adds a nice touch.

Well... we put up the tree last night, decorated it with the standard resin, glass, pvc, and whatever other plastic bits 'o Christmas cheer we had available, and strung the traditional 600 count all green lights to give it that warm nuclear glow. Then when the children arrived home from school (child #2 made Steph promise to wait until then), all the girls set about to bakin' and decoratin' the goods.

They had their day's project hung on the tree by the time I got home from work, but the lower layer of the tree was mysteriously void of any cookies. As I peeked around the tree, there stood Holly, my little 1.8 year old, holding a gingerbread star in each hand, her mouth so full she couldn't speak, cookie crumbs all over her face, and that look about her like Po doing a perfect split about to say "Don't tell Monkey!"