Every year I promise myself that I will bake a gingerbread house and adorn it with gumdrops, licorice and nonpareils. Two years ago I made the dough, bought the candy, but never made the house. Most likely, I became frustrated with the thought of making icing and creating a giant house that probably wouldn’t support itself. Instead, the dough was baked into gingerbread men and the candy was eaten within two weeks.
Last year I talked about baking a gingerbread house, but never executed. Who knows why. Maybe finals. Maybe lack of money. More than likely I probably wanted it to be perfect and refused to settle for less. Knowing that it would be less than perfect I probably scratched the idea.
This year I decided to do it and get it done with early. We would make two small houses and made sure to make several extra walls and roofs in case I made an error. I made the dough, let it chill overnight, baked it the next day, and decorated the next night. There was little frustration. There were no temper tantrums about the roof sliding off, or the walls not standing. There were no f-bombs dropped because a doorway was forgotten. There was no grunts that the perfect candies did not make the cut.
This year it was easy. I bought shredded wheat (lightly frosted, but my blood pressure did not rise) and pretzel logs and sticks. That was all. No candy. No gum drops. No marshmallows. Perfection was not needed. We turned on the Christmas Pandora station, rocked to Burl Ives and decorated.
Can you guess which one is Doug’s and which is mine?
Doug’s cabin has the green candy above the door and mine has the red. They may not be perfect.
They may be lopsided. And have little to no candy. But they were fun to make. No frustrations.