You don't really believe I made these, do you?
A conversation with my semi-guilty conscience:
Guilty Conscience: Sooooo, Muse, Just how many Christmas cookies have you made this year?
Muse Swings: Zip, nada, zilch.
GC: (While making my left eye twitch) Are you planning on baking?
MS: I'm thinking about it.
GC: Just what are you thinking about?
MS: I'm thinking about crashing a cookie exchange.
GC: I see you have a grocery list with some potential cookie ingredients listed.
MS: Yes, it's a bit optimistic of me.
GC: And you are planning on going to Publix, when?
MS: Tomorrow, I guess.
GC: I'd suggest you at least set the alarm. Otherwise by the time you show up the sugar and flour aisles will be as empty as your cookie jar.
GC: And what about those teeny little gingersnaps you used to make by the thousands? I haven't seen one of those in 17 years.
MS: It's the humidity in Florida. They puff up - no crunch.
GC: And the problem with that is?
MS: That's the whole point of the cookies. The crunch.
GC: I saw you thumbing through a recipe book at the check out counter the other day. The recipes all call for that pre-made sugar cookie dough. Where are your morals? Your pride?
MS: Look, I've been semi-super Christmas Mom for 40 years. My priorities have changed.
GC: So, what exactly are your priorities?
MS: I don't really have any right now. I'm good with that. Actually, I'm wallowing in it.
GC: Do you think Santa will be "good with" not having a plate of cookies waiting for him this year?
MS: Who sez he won't get cookies? I still have a box of Girl Scout Thin Mints in the freezer. Those things are like gold this time of year.