Ed. Note: Thank you, everyone, for your kind participation in the “Gift of Self” discussion below. I will continue the series with Part II soon.
This past Saturday was a day of culinary reckoning. Low-carb diet notwithstanding, I simply had to start making our Christmas goodies because—apart from the sugar cookies we baked on St. Nicholas Day—I hadn’t made a single batch.
And that, my friends, will simply not do.
I started by making a list of our favorites—a list of ten that looks like this:
- White Chocolate Peanut Butter Stackers
- Santa’s Surprises
- Gingerbread men and/or house
- Andes Crème de Menthe Cookies
- Peppermint Bark
- Candy Cane Cookies
- Sugar Cookies
- Candy Cane Kiss Cookies
There! That oughta give me something to work with!
I asked my husband to cover for me as I drove, kamikaze-like, to a local Super Target. It was 8:00 p.m. and almost bedtime; good for him for letting me go.
An hour later and I had filled the cart with no end of flour, sugar, extracts and almond bark. I had peppermint kisses and buttery Ritz; I had marshmallow fluff and bleach.
(Oops. That last item was for my husband’s fish tank. I stored it underneath the cart.)
I paid for my items and made my way back to the jeep. I’ll tell you this much: my husband’s black jeep is a LOT harder to find after dark than our gargantuan white barge is. I used the “unlock” feature on the key which made the headlights flash and helped me find it. Shoot! I was on the other side of the median, which meant hoisting the heavy-laden cart up and over.
I was about to leave when I remembered…didn’t my friend Tina say that they were running a promo, where for every $50 you spent you got a $10 gift card? Trust me, I had spent fifty dollars! I went back inside to ask at the desk.
Shoot! The promo only ran ‘til noon. I thanked the woman and went back outside…
And discovered that the car was gone.
Someone had stolen my husband’s car.
Panicking, I clicked and re-clicked the “unlock” option (they broke the window! they hot-wired it!) but there was no black Jeep with its headlights flashing. I knew where I’d parked it—there were still tracks from the cart on the grassy median—but the car wasn’t there. It was gone. I was doomed.
And then…and then….it occurred to me. I had been driving the car when I remembered the promo—had been on my way out of the parking lot, in fact. The jeep wasn’t stolen; it was two rows over!
Two rows over, eight spaces up.
Tell me, please, that you all are getting loopy too! Loopy from shopping and loopy from baking, loopy as only the last week of Advent will leave us.
Soon only one thing—the best thing—will matter.