Last weekend, CJ decided that we were going to make cookies.

As a family.


She decided sugar cookies, cut into shapes, would be easy enough to bake and then later decorate.  We got some wax-paper taped down onto the dining table, and both girls seated.  We put some flour down on the paper, almost immediately after that CJ says, “don’t worry about it – I’ll just vacuum afterward.”  By the end, unbelievably, the flour managed to ONLY cover the table, chairs, the dining room carpeting, and the girls.

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We cut the dough in half, one glob for each girl, at which point CJ looks to me and says, “You are officially allowed to give advice since you’ve observed this more often,” making a reference to my Mom, who kept my Dad, brother, and I well-fed with homemade bread, cookies, and other confectionary wonders when we were growing up.  With a slightly stunned look I responded, “I only ‘observed’ the cookies when they came OUT of the oven.”

We gave Lucy the rolling pin first, and got her started trying to roll out the cookies.  Unfortunately, we didn’t put enough flour on the pin, so the entire gob of cookie dough stuck to it.  We spent a couple of minutes pealing it off, and then rubbing copious amounts of flour onto the pin before the next attempt.

Once we had a nicely-smoothed out layer of dough, both CJ and I went into the kitchen for separate items.  It was then we heard Lucy start to sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”.  She made it through an entire verse, and started on the second before we returned to find her punctuating every syllable of the song by poking a hole in the dough.  So much for smooth.

At some point, the flour then transitioned up to someone’s nose, and the girls thought it would be funny for EVERYONE to powder their noses.


Too bad Dad was taking the picture.  Just imagine that he has powder on his nose, too.

We eventually got a good rhythm down for smoothing out the dough, cutting out a few shapes, placing them on the trays, and rolling the dough out for the next round.  When we filled all of our cookie trays, we put them in the oven, and began the dining room-detox.  As CJ and I were making runs between the dining room and kitchen, she stopped me, and with a slight-crazed look in her eye exclaimed “we put cookie-dough-like substance on a tray!”  Yes, yes we did.

When the cookies came out, however, we realized that they expanded a little more than we had anticipated.

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CJ got them separated, and set up for the next step – icing.

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CJ tried to pull out the ones that would be the least likely to scare people away at church, and we kept the rest.  My personal favorite was one that looks like a hand on fire, but I lovingly termed “Jazz Hand”, but there are some other memorable ones:

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And thus concludes the K-zoo Gilbert’s first cookie extravaganza.

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