That’s usually an excuse for people to bake cookies as gifts for the holidays. I don’t mind the cookies. I embrace the cookies. They help me keep track of the holiday season. I know the holidays are officially over when I’m down to that one last tin of misfit cookies. You know, they were given to you by someone on a greasy, paper plate with Saran Wrap that¬†doesn’t¬†stick. You don‚Äôt want to throw them away cause they‚Äôre cookies! But, you‚Äôre pretty sure they were made by people who let their cats lick the spatula.
Sad thing is I eat them all. Right down to the random Gummi Bear that somehow always makes an appearance. Poor guy. They can’t all be gingerbread men.