Christmas Elves Don't Take Breaks

Enlisting help in Christmas Cookie making from my daughter, Krista, should make it more fun and less frenzied.  She is artistic and loves to decorate, but in this kitchen, with time constraints, we can’t put perfect smiles on every Santa Claus, now can we? 
“Why don’t you make all the smiles, then go back and make all the eyes, and so on?” I suggested, adding up the seeming 10 minutes each cookie is taking.
“But I want to do it this way.”
The assembly line had come to a complete, steam-hissing halt.
“Krista, we have 20 million cookies to make, can you hurry it up?”  Christmas clouds are darkening, laughing has ceased and I’m starting to feel like if something pure like an Angel or a Muppet entered my kitchen, it would fall dead from the “Cheer Vacuum.”
“O.k., you keep going, I’m going to make more.”
In the same time I made 2 batches of fudge, 2 trays of caramel bars and removed the ceremonial molten peanut brittle from the microwave, Krista had completed 25 Santa faces--and they were magnificent.
“O.K—we’ve got gingerbread to roll out and this time we decorate before they go in the oven.”
“I think I’m going to take a break.”
“Christmas Cookie Elves don’t take breaks!” I blasted, “Especially while their mothers are pouring their heart and soul into making everything (face reddens for dramatic effect) PERFECT!”
At this point, Heidi had left the building, replaced by the voice of her now deceased, always Christmas-Stressed Mother.  It had to be her; I haven’t heard the words “Christmas Cookie Elves” since 1972.
I have rapid flashbacks of those hard, metal Christmas decorations that break your teeth rolling all over the floor because they never stick in the dough.  I remember her taking my little hands firmly and telling me to make the dough balls NOT sausages. I’m reeling, remembering at age 7, when I accidentally broke a glass near the cookie making station and she had to start all over again.  I really, seriously thought she was going to kill me but she did worse.  She cried.
As soon as I realized that Dolores had channeled me, I shook and came to my senses.
“I’m taking a break too,” I said, “LET’S EAT SOME!”
If you, on my cookie recipient list, don’t get your cookies this year…they were delicious.
Ho-Ho-Ho!


Comments

Jemi Fraser said…
Good choice! I'm behind in my baking too this year - but I got a couple of double batches squeezed in today :)
Dang, girl, I was counting on my cookies!
Fun-nay, awesome holiday post. So so glad to see you posting again.
And I'm so glad somebody else makes lazy-azz microwave peanut brittle.
Anonymous said…
I think I like your mother. ~Mary
ssaretsky said…
So many memories - I remember being in charge of my mothers homemade bread and forgetting to take it out of the oven. The became over-sized tins of coal - which is what I got for Christmas a few days later after my mother cried for an hour. Loved the blog - and I am rolling penut butter balls all day so I'll think of you fondly during my stress!
joanne lee said…
Unfortunately I made my Christmas cookies because I was doing a cookie exchange. All I can say is "they WERE good".
Please feel free to eat all of the ones you made for me. And Fred's. As long as he is still walking, he should be happy to donate his cookies. The cheer vacuum? What a great name for the pre-Christmas kitchen!! I love your writing style.
Jody Worsham said…
Put me on your cookie list. My children have only eaten Pills-bury bricks! Can't wait for EBWW. I'll be at the "bird" table with Dawn and the rest of E.B.'s harem. Jody, The Medicare Mom

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