Let me tell you a little something about these cookies. Cinnamon chocolate chip. I made a large batch on Christmas Eve and took a good portion to a friend’s house. This friend baked enough cookies for a small army, so we flew into Kansas City the next day with a backpack full of sweets. I had high hopes my family would devour them quickly. But no. They made cookies of their own. Everywhere you looked, there were gingersnaps, peanut butter squares, pieces of fudge, sugar cookies. I’ll stop there. Not because that’s all there was but because I’m getting a sugar high just writing their names. By Dec. 29, there were so many cookies in Dad’s kitchen I did the unthinkable.
I threw away cookies.
Now I’m not saying I’m off cookies for the rest of my life. Maybe just the rest of the year. Writing about them even now is making me a flinch a little.
The rest of the trip was cold, snowy and fabulous. I spent quality time with the peeps I don’t see nearly often enough, and I miss them already. (But I don’t miss the weather. Brr.)