I knew before we started that my daughter’s and my plan to bake Christmas cookies would not become a blissful Betty Crocker memory. First, I’m not a baker. And when I do bake, I prefer to make brownies or cakes. You know–things that are less time intensive, require just one pass at the oven, and generally are difficult to burn.
But my daughter really wanted to make the pretty iced cookies she saw on the covers of every magazine at the checkout line, so I went along.
Within minutes, confectioner’s sugar had spilled all over the table, along with a container of green sprinkles. Greasy fingerprints and red gel icing dotted the counters. And the cute candy cane and wreath shaped 
cookies we attempted to create ultimately spread and melted into blobs on the cookie sheets.
When we tried to ice one batch, we didn’t wait long enough, so that first smear of icing just tore off the top halves of the cookies. We burned the bottoms of another batch of chocolate cookies. My daughter tried to salvage what we didn’t destroy, but needless to say, they look nothing like intended. We can only hope they taste better than they appear.
I wish I could report that I rolled with the punches and giggled and laughed. Sadly, the perfectionist in me just got more disgusted with every mistake. My attempt to share a Christmas moment with my daughter went up in flames (much like that one batch of cookies). In other words, major fail on my part, despite the smooth voice of Bing Crosby in the background.
Next year I vow to do a better job (assuming my daughter gives me another chance). If I stick to cupcakes and hot chocolate, perhaps I’ve got a shot.
Do you have a Christmas fail story to share?
xo-Jamie
