I’m gearing up for Saturday, when Mom and I will do our annual cookie baking. It’s always a hoot. I’m orderly. Mom’s all over the place. The Christmas music will be on. We’ll disagree on which size is an ideal spoonful of dough to drop onto the cookie sheet. We’ll laugh at the one tray we’ll forget about and burn.
For us, it’s not about making pretty cookies. It’s how they taste. It’s the process.