WWWT?: Gingerbread Edition

For weeks, Jacob had been begging me to put together the gingerbread house. I’d taken one look at the lengthy instructions back in December before I’d waved the white flag of defeat. I’d packed the whole kit back into the box and shoved it to the top shelf of the kitchen. Out of sight, out of mind-- for me anyway. Jacob, however, would not forget-- bless his heart-- and at least twice a week he would ask to put the darn thing together. I cursed the day I’d laid eyes on it at the craft store.

In a moment of weakness over the weekend, my resolve to never see that blasted gingerbread house assembled was abandoned, and my children giggled maniacally at the thought of all those confectionery construction materials. It was disturbing.

Despite my better judgment, I mixed the icing and helped Jacob build the house before leaving the three boys to the decorating. And you know what? It wasn’t the torturous ordeal I’d expected, especially after they threw the instructions to the floor and stuck the candy anywhere they pleased.

I did learn something from this experience. If my children are ever wandering alone in the woods and stumble upon a house built of gingerbread and candy, one of them will undoubtedly be served up gumbo-style for dinner to the cannibalistic hag living inside. 

My littlest sugar glutton just cannot say no to a gumdrop.