The girls and I are making Christmas cookies. Actually, the girls are making Christmas cookies; I'm just supervising at this point.
Granted, we took a bit of a shortcut, because I had some chocolate chip cookie mix on hand, and it was easier to use that and add the "holiday swirled white chocolate chips" to the batter than to start with "from scratch" chocolate chip cookie batter and go from there. What, chocolate chip cookies aren't "Christmas cookies" at your house? It's not my fault; I've been informed solemnly on several occasions that Saint Nicholas's chief helper much prefers them to most other cookies (although he just discovered that he also really likes my mother's almond crescents--Mom, I need a recipe!).
But as much fun as it is to watch the girls spoon sticky batter onto trays and put their math into action (four trays at 12 cookies each plus how many extra for a final tray equals...), I've got to admit that we're missing something.
It seems like just yesterday when Christmas cookie baking always, always, always involved at least one (and sometimes three) chairs clustered solemnly around the mixer, while three bouncy, giggling little girls exclaimed at the action of the mixer, begged to add the vanilla, sampled the chocolate chips "just in case," and wondered how old they'd have to be before they could crack an egg.
Now, of course, two out of three of them are taller than I am, and they're all frighteningly competent cookie-bakers. Which is fun in its own way, of course. But next year, maybe we could borrow this sweet lady's youngest little guy for an afternoon? I hear he looooooves cookies!