On Friday, I bake. Not fancy stuff-I bake cookies (from a mix, gasp) and I bake a lot of them (about 250). These are for my annual cookie party on Saturday, an event where little kids that I know and their families decorate cookies any way they want. Some cookies are beautiful, some are crazy, and most are gloppy messes that no one other than little kids would eat.
I intend to make my pre-party baking ritual fun, laid back and not stressful. In light of the intended audience, there is no need to stress over this process. Little kids don't care that I made the cookies from a mix. They only care if they get to decorate them and eat them. One neighborhood boy makes only one cookie, but it has about 8 inches of icing on top, which is gray as a result of mixing all the icing colors together to make the masterpiece.
When I start baking, the cookies look great, carefully cut and placed on the baking sheet. By the end of the day, however, the angels look like laborador retrievers, and Santa's hats are elongated in a Suess-like fashion. I usually get stressed about this, but this year I will make it relational. I'm going to have my daughters help me make the cookies, and I vow not to care if they look less than professional.
The point of my cookie party is fun, fellowship and sugar overload. That will all be accomplished without any Martha Stewart touches on my part.
Good thing. I flunked Martha Stewart in college.
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