A Martha Stewart Christmas

The sun wove sweet rays of light into my bubblegum pink jacket on that brisk afternoon in late December. The snow glistened like sugar crystals as I expertly rolled each ball to the precise size.
"Daddy, can you help me lift this?" I asked politely, my eyes sparkling with excitement. I knew when my mom pleaded with me to "go outside and play", there was something that she was keeping from me. I had to get inside. I just had to.
"Yes honey, I'll be right there," Dad replied busily as he gave my little sister, Grace, an under dog on our brand new swing-set. He bounded over to my sloppy mounds of clumpy snow and grinned. Effortlessly, he assisted me with the rest of my snowman until I was satisfied. Which of course didn't take long.

The delectable smell of temptation caressed my every move as I slipped into the warm kitchen. The look on my mom's face screamed, "Enter at your own risk!", but I decided to take my irresistible cuteness to my advantage, and entered anyways.
It was then when I spotted the cookies. So this is what she has been hiding from us. I see how it is. I gazed at my mom while she ever-so-carefully frosted the fragile moons and stars. The were beckoning for me to slyly nibble on one of the corners of a crescent or to just wish upon a star. So from the base of the counter I quickly glanced up with a slight twinkle in my small chocolate eyes, and wished with all my might for some way to get my hands on one of those things.

My sister and I were partners in crime, Right from the very start. So once we witnessed my mom beginning to strategically hang the gingerbread delights from the "present tree", we began to write- no, more like scribble- our plan of attack.
As if on cue, the phone began to ring. My dad picked up.
"Donna, for you!" He hollered, hoping that she wasn't too wrapped up in her Martha Stewart Christmas decorations.
"Uggggh," she muttered under her breath,"okay, hold on." Once all was clear, my sister and I closed in on our target. As if we needed instruction from there! Grace was the first to dive in and stuff as much cookie as possible into her hamster-like cheeks. Several large chunks tumbled to the floor and surrounded her toes. But soon enough the cat was on hot pursuit, quick as a fox, vacuuming up the remains. As for me, well, I fisted a star in my chubby left hand and groped for the highest moon that I could reach for with my right. I had to see which one looked yummier because when you are three years old, looks change everything. So with that I chomped down on the pointiest point of the star, and the crest of the moon, Bu just as a satisfied grin began to peak out from our over-stuffed mouths, mom stormed into the room.
"GIRLS! What are you doing?!" She demanded. "I have worked for hours on these cookie ornaments and look what you have done! You've ruined them!"
"We didn't do it mommy! We didn't do it!" Gracie cried out with such an innocent expression that it could have melted even the steel hearted.
"Well then, who did?" Mom inquired.
At the same time, both me and my sister pointed to the fluffy gray Persian kitty, vegging out on top of the butter cream colored tree skirt.
So I guess that day curiosity left the cat with a pretty bad stomach ache. My mom had also learned that Martha Stewart decorating is not such a good idea with two toddlers in the house. But, my sister and I had dared to reach for the stars and to take a risk. We sure had learned our lesson, or at least I did. Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it all!





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