10 Comments

My mother was like that too only she didn't bake. I miss her. Merry Christmas.

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This was THE BEST, Shelly! God, do I miss raw cookie dough! Happy holidays!

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“Kids these days and their pathetic GI tracts don’t know the pure culinary delight that is RAW COOKIE DOUGH.”

RIGHT??? God, I loved devouring that stuff every year. And licking the beaters. Which sounds like a euphemism for something sexual, but I’m not sure I want to know what. Although, whatever it is would probably be preferable to nibbling on Santa’s sack. Good God, woman! You just know he needs to moisturize too, with all that cold, dry air at the Pole. (Oh no, Santa’s pole has entered the chat.)

I feel like I’m starting to hallucinate, so I’m just going to say that I loved this and I wish you an amazing Christmas, bestie!!!

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Not only has Santa's pole entered the chat but Santa's CHAFFED pole has entered-- and that too sounds like a euphemism. Well, sounds like we have done our Christian service here and to all a goodnight! Amazing Christmas to you too, bestie!

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I feel an affinity with your mum - not just because she caused a serious paranormal event, but because my baking also comes with a healthy dose of resentment 😆

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I had high hopes for those cookies!

Your ma knew all along. 🥰🙏 Have a fab Christmas. 🎄🙏🥰

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Choked on my own laughter reading this very funny tale. I guessed both the plot twists, but that just made the story sweeter than those index cards you made. Happy Christmas!

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To you as well! Thank you for reading!

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Bahahaha that was fantastic

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Better than those damn cookies at least! Happy Holidays!

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