Rhoads family cookie day occurs just once each year. Let me give you some sage advice: never give your grandchildren little love monikers, like cookie names. It leads to hosting a family cookie day where we bake each kind of cookie. It leads to bedlam!
It all began so innocently. Matthias was our first, and whenever we wanted to talk about him, we all just said “M” and he never caught on. Then I had a little Sugar, so the others all asked what their cookie names were, and, well, before long I had a Chipper, a Gingersnap, a Snickerdoodle, a Tea Cake, a Chocoberry, and a Lemon Drop. If you make double batches of each, that’s a whole lot of cookies!
It begins with a pristine kitchen large enough for all of us. We go to the church, which has three ovens. I wonder if the kitchen feels any fear…it’s those Rhoads kids again! Watch out!
Everyone lines up for hand washing. When Alma was alive he wore an old security guard uniform and his sole function was watching little hands touching faces or noses or hair…it was back to the sink for all of them once or twice. They’re better now, but Bill watches all the same.
Some of the chilled dough is ready for immediate baking, four batches have to be mixed, and of course, everyone loves helping Katelyn with the sugar cookies. The shapes are beginning to look better, but icing is thick and literally swimming with decorations. Note to self: You can never have too many sprinkles.
When it’s all cleaned up, the cars are loaded, and I turn off the light, I breathe a sigh of contentment mixed with a whole lot of relief. Cookie day is a happy memory. I hope when I am gone each one will think of me when they munch on cookies, and remember how much I loved them…enough to endure cookie day once a year, lol!