The children brought their gingerbread houses home from school yesterday, on the bus, in plastic grocery bags.
But if those houses didn't look overly appealing when they'd made them at school, they looked even less so when they were on our kitchen table after a bumpy bus ride home, in a plastic grocery bag.
When I asked if I could just throw them out, the response was deafening. Despite the appearance of these houses, the children had it in their minds that the were going to consume them, entirely.
We've really been watching what we eat so in my opinion, if we're going to consume sugary treats - they're going to be a GOOD sugary treat that will taste as delightful as it looks. In my parental opinion, this does not come close to meeting the minimum criteria:
Then again, our children are growing older and the things that I could once just toss without their recognition, are now NOTICED. And questioned. And mourned. And I had a feeling that if the children woke up today and their gingerbread houses had mysteriously disappeared, there will be whining sadness at acoustic levels I cannot fathom.
So last tonight, when the children were tucked in to bed and sleeping soundly, the craziest thing happened. Santa was flying around the world finalizing his "list" and as he flew by our house, he caught sight of the children's gingerbread houses.
And well... it would appear Santa appreciated them a lot more than I did.
Instead of tears this morning, there were huge smiles and laughter.
It's the most amazing thing.
