“LET’S MAKE CHRISTMAS COOKIES AND WATCH HALLMARK SHOWS!” Bekki said excitedly. “IT’LL BE FUN!”
Define “fun” I thought as I watched the mayhem unfold. (Note to self: If I ever build another house the kitchen will have a floor drain and at least two garden hose connections on the walls.)
As projects go (and I have A LOT of them pending before the holidays) Christmas cookies sounded fun. But then I remembered the territorial hockey game that happens every time Bekki and I find ourselves in the kitchen at the same time. Quite simply, I get ass-nudged and hip checked around our puny work island until I draw a foul and find myself in the penalty box. I’ve realized over the past several years that kitchen hockey is a lifeskill Bek acquired from her mother; a passive aggressive domain claim, like grizzly bears clawing trees to mark their territory.
I walked into the kitchen finding several bowls of pastel colored Easter frosting. Soupy thin by frosting standards but everyone has their secret recipes for stuff. I spooned out a few teaspoons of the watery mess into a couple of small bowls, thickened it with spoonfuls of powdered sugar, and made my own colors. I like bright colors. It must be a guy thing.
I learned I was doing it wrong. Before this project I didn’t know frosting is supposed to “soak in.”
I watched the master baker create.
“What’s that?” I asked, looking at one of her creations.
“A crab!” Bekki said, looking over her glasses with a big smile.
“REALLY BEK? A Christmas crab? It’s supposed to be Santa. You have it sideways,” I said.
She paused for a few seconds, staring at her creation. “Well the cutters aren’t marked. How am I supposed to know what that thing’s supposed to be! Are you gonna be all critical or are you going to make some?”
I reluctantly picked up a cookie. The goalie immediately came outta the box and blocked my every move.
Instead of falling into the predictable territorial grizzly kitchen trap, I employed Christmas guy-psychology. Call it “guycology.”
It worked.
“THAT’S NOT CHRISTMASSY! YOU RUIN EVERYTHING!” She said, taking a picture of my creation to share with her friends to validate that I am indeed the Grinch.
“Come on Bek, It’s very Chrismassy! I call it mele kalikimaka!” I said, moving the little hula dancer and singing the only words that I know to the song… the title.
As projects go, it was fun to watch Bekki get in the holiday spirit and make Christmas crabs. I’m almost certain there will be a second round of holiday baking when the kids come home.
Mele Kalikimaka to all!