Look at the Christmas cookies I baked.Wha? OK, I'll give you time to quick choking on your morning coffee ... Yeah, I didn't bake the cookies, but Bill did and that's reason to celebrate.
My husband can bake a cookie, people.
I can make cookies, too, and they are fine. But Bill's are the best and I'm not just saying that because I like eating cookies more than baking them.
And we won't just be eating Bill's fabulous Christmas cookies, but my mom is baking, too.
This might just be the best Christmas ever.
On another sticky sweet note, I wrote a post over here, complete with pictures, about the kitty. Go on click it. Who doesn't want to see kitten pictures?
Today's boatload of holiday cheer is brought to you by the migraine in my head. I'm trying some postive thinking in hopes that it'll just go away. But just in case it doesn't, I'm practicing my ding-dong kicking as well.
2 comments:
Had I known that there were men out there like your "cookie daddy" (please feel free to use that in private), I might have not gone ascew...or don't it work that a way?... Sandra
Sure it works that way. Know also that he doesn't only bake, but he cooks and takes out the garbage. I've got myself a winner, fo' sho'.
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