A Sweet, Little Christmas Story…
I purchased a sweet, little gingerbread house in hopes that my sweet, not-so-little-anymore boys would help me decorate it.
We would make memories that they will forever cherish in their sweet, little hearts.
Unfortunately, when I opened the box, the sweet, little gingerbread house was battered and broken.
And, my sweet, not-so-little-anymore boys had no desire to build a sweet, little gingerbread house with their mother.
So, the sweet, little gingerbread house sat desolate and untouched, broken, crumbled.
That is, until my youngest son’s punk friend came over.
Boys…
They had no plans of making a sweet, little gingerbread house.
They had other ideas.
It was no gingerbread house I’d ever seen.
Sweet it was not.
Christmas chaos more like…
You tell me…
What gingerbread house has a basketball hoop and a ramp??
(That is a basketball player with a peppermint head. I think.)
What gingerbread house does not have four walls and a roof on top??
Apparently this one.
I don’t even know how to describe it.
I mean, you can clearly see, it was a mess.
A big, chocolate-y, sprinkle-y, crumbly mess.
A boy mess.
But.
But…
Memories were made.
Fun was had.
Sugar was consumed.
Christmas Punks.
Here’s hoping you and yours create happy, memorable Christmas chaos, too!
Merry Christmas Eve,
E.
(phone-camera pics, again. sorry.)
Out to Lunch... 
My good friend has two sons, 18 & 15. Every year, she gets them to make a gingerbread house. But she bribes them…. On Christmas Day, when they’re at their family ranch, they get to take their gingerbread houses outside and shoot them with deer rifles. So they each make a lovely little gingerbread house, motivated only by the fact that they get to blow it to tiny little smithereens. Ah, family traditions….
Have a great Christmas, Elizabeth. Tell C and the boys we said hey! 🙂
That is hilarious, Lana!! I’m so going to copy that next year!!!
Merry Christmas, my friend.
E.
Roll the dough, cut it too. I’ll make a gingerbread house for you. In the oven, let it bake, It takes so long, for heaven’s sake! It smells so good, pass the cream! No! Don’t eat the house of my dream. Pipe the icing, let it dry. The house is standing – I don’t know why! Shingle the roof, shutters on sides. The house takes shape, I glow with pride, Making gardens, gates and trees. That’s my fence – don’t eat it, please! Moving at a harried pace, Candies flying everyplace Keep on going – just can’t rest, Get it done, here come the guests. “Oh it’s beautiful!” – so they say I turn and look the other way… CHOMP!