The way Christmas is supposed to be...

Dillon had a bad morning. He didn't want to play with his toys because he wanted his room to stay clean for Christmas (Santa doesn't come to a messy house, you know). I told him I'd help him clean up his toys, but it wasn't enough.

He was so emotional, and lonely, that he started to cry. I had him sit in my lap and we rocked like we did when he was little.

We started talking about the gingerbread man that disappeared from his kindergarten class. Aunt Melece and Grandma Graves have both seen him where they live. I told him that maybe we could make a gingerbread man someday, and he looked at me and said, "But it will run away!"

I told him that not all gingerbread men run away, and then I took the opportunity to prove it.

I'm so glad I did.

I looked up a recipe online, and discovered that I had exactly the 1/2 cup of molasses that we needed, as well as all the spices. We hurried to make the dough so it could refrigerate for an hour and still leave us enough time to bake and decorate cookies before afternoon kindergarten. (We did take time to smell the ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, molasses, and vanilla as we added them). Dillon decided that molasses smells just like Rico's doggy treats. I think gingerbread tastes just like Rico's doggy treats...

We considered taping the refrigerator door closed, so that the dough wouldn't run away, but Dillon used his thinking cap and determined that dough doesn't have legs, so it wouldn't be able to run.

He did, however, sit right by the oven the entire time they were baking to make sure that none of them got away.

(Does anyone know how to clean the crud off of the inside of my oven door? I've heard you shouldn't use oven cleaner in a self-cleaning oven, but the "self-cleaning" feature doesn't do such a great job on the window...)

By a tender mercy from heaven, I came home from Walmart yesterday with a bag of gingerbread marshmallows. I don't even like ginger, or marshmallows, but for some reason I saw them and instinctively put them in my cart. Dillon was thrilled and they were the perfect addition to our little celebration.
Dillon and I had a nice little party together (he ate gingerbread cookies, while I took pictures of them :o). The baby slept the entire time (another tender mercy) and I was able to give Dillon the one-on-one time he needed.

This is the way Christmas is supposed to be.