Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Pillsbury

Now that I have a cookie jar, I feel like reveling in domestic stereotypical womanhood. When my children nap, I make cookies. When my husband comes home from work? He is greeted by the smell of the Christmas tree, cinnamon candles and fresh-out-of-the-oven cookies. Would you care for peanut butter or chocolate chip, dear?
Seriously, though, I'm in love with this adorable Santa cookie jar! And so is Beatrice. In the sweetest voice imaginable, she asks, "Mama, may I pleeeease hold Santa?"

And, yes, they are from a package. But how could I possibly resist when the package said it contained no artificial flavors, colors, preservatives or high fructose corn syrup? (And, yes, they were still good.)



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