Crushed!

My children have just dealt me a crushing blow. I'm reeling from the shock.

Since I was little, one of my favorite Christmas traditions was watching my mother roll out the made-from-scratch sugar cookie dough while we listened to her favorite Christmas album, helping to cut the shapes, patiently wait for them to bake and cool, and then decorate. (The decorating allowed my and my siblings' OCD tendencies to shine through.)

I couldn't wait for this tradition to happen in my home. I even searched out and found the hard to find out of publication Christmas album!

My children have just all informed me of what their favorite Christmas cookie is. And not a single one of them, and there are four of cookie eating age, have chosen the cut-outs! Gasp! Horror!

These favorites of mine, which I so long for in June, and while I can simply make more, it just doesn't feel right without the refrains of "Come On Ring Those Bells" echoing through my head.

The cookie container has about two dozen of these treats left. I'm left now to only savor them, each bite, because I have a feeling that they won't grace the top of my cupboards next year.