So, you decided to participate in a holiday cookie swap and you are feeling the pressure of the Christmas clock. You realize you only have a few days until the exchange and your heart drops faster than Hans Gruber off the Nakatomi Tower. (It’s a Christmas movie. End the debate!)
‘Twas the night before guests arrived, when all through the house, not a creature was silent, not even the spouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney in a hurry, in hope that they could pull it together with haste, not fury.
What do you call a spiked pumpkin pie? We call it, amazing.