Do You Hear What I Hear?

Well, the tree didn't go up as planned. Of course, none if this is really planned. There's always tomorrow but with each tomorrow I get closer to What's the point? I made cookies, though. That counts, right? Butterscotch oatmeal. Santa's favorite.

I had to wear reading glasses to make them. Reading glasses! That's because the recipe is on the back of the butterscotch package along with twelve other recipes. But reading glasses? Mrs. Claus is getting older... (Not old. Older.)

In other culinary news, I noticed last night that my organic teeny tiny carrots had no nutrition information printed on the package. I mean, they look like carrots. And it says "carrots" on the front. But without the government's intervention, how do I really know they are carrots? Hm?

I was serving them as a side dish to my steak and potatoes and I wanted to know how much of the little devils made up a serving. I thought it was five - which I think is funny so I wanted to be sure and, lo, no info. The reason I think five mini carrots as a serving is funny is because a serving of Cheetos is about 34  pieces but, of course, who is going to count to 34 when you're eating Cheetos? Sorry, I think the serving ends when you reach the bottom of the bag.

I went to get the serving information off the Cheetos bag so I could accurately compare that to the serving size of the little carrots but I ate all the Cheetos and all I'm left with is this bag of miniature vegetables.

Hello? Did you hear that? That sound, boys and girls, was the timer on the oven for the last batch of cookies. Time to wrap this up and start making dinner. Mushroom risotto. The Chateauneuf-du-Pape is already open and breathing.

Besides, Santa's getting into the cookies. Better go defend the kitchen.