Christmas Memories

Tonight I looked at the few cookies produced from such a large effort and wondered if I am really up to all of the baking I've been planning to do. And that thought triggered a memory:

For some years when I was still a child living at home Mom paid a woman to bake several dozen cookies in a variety of types at Christmas time. After picking up her purchase, Mom would create plates for friends and neighbors of these homemade goodies and often rely on my brothers and I to run them to the door as she'd drive us around.

When I was really young with a growing idea about honesty, I thought it was deceptive to pass out homemade treats that you didn't even make.

So I'd say my schpiel, "Merry Christmas from the ***'s." And then add, "My mom didn't actually make these cookies."

At some point Mom must have discovered my confession. She taught me that I didn't actually have to tell people that she didn't make them. So I no longer volunteered that information, but instead hoped I could run away before someone questioned, "Oh, did your mother make these?" Cause I knew I wasn't going to lie, but I really didn't want to disappoint Mom.

And then I got a little older, and came to find it outrageously hysterically funny that Mom was paying someone to do holiday baking! And I HOPED someone would ask the question so I could gleefully respond:

"No. She pays some lady to make them for her."

It still cracks me up. Even knowing that my children will do far more embarrassing things to me in the future. And that I will deserve them.

Merry Christmas Mom!!!