Mark your calendar!
“. . . While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.”
For years we visited family in for Thanksgiving or Christmas celebrations. On one visit the house was full, and the only place remaining for two boys (my oldest cousin and myself) to sleep was . . . The breakfast room, right next to the kitchen. That was a mistake.
Two sleepless boys + insatiable grumbling bellies + love for chocolate. . . Are those BonBons? Bourbon Balls, you say? Don’t mind if I do! Ssshhhhh! Hahahaha!
Brownies, cookies, fudge—it did not matter. Nothing was safe. Tins were opened, plastic was peeled back, crumbs were made. Every dessert had been invaded—except the pie. That would be too obvious. Fruit? Shoot! Hand me another cookie!
Then came the morning. . .
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