So I picked up this little gem of a project a few days ago:
Yes, indeedy. It is one of those prefab gingerbread house kits, the kind of which I have avoided for most of Aura’s childhood, simply because I couldn’t put up with what I knew would be Adam’s protestations: “A pre-made gingerbread house? That’s ridiculous! Do you know how easy gingerbread is to make? Then you just cool it and cut it and whip up some royal icing and blah blah blah and blah blah blah and I’m making that superior face I know you hate but it’s like I can’t keep from doing it because I watch too much Bobby Flay.”
The thing is, I’m a big one for from-scratch baking (despite the fact that I detest cooking-cooking and shall detest it for all eternity). But who are we kidding? When am I going to have the time to bake and precisely measure gingerbread walls and roof shingles? As I explained to Adam, I suppose I could have tried to fit it in between CHURNING BUTTER and GROWING MY OWN COTTON FOR PETTICOATS, but life is short.
Plus, when you make your own gingerbread, I bet you don’t get that subtle taste of…let’s see…sodium benzoate. And you completely miss out on FD&C Yellow #5.
Also, mixing up a batch of homemade icing in the KitchenAid would have deprived Aura of the chance to…let me take another look at the instructions…ah, yes. She wouldn’t have been able to Knead Icing Fervently Until Proper Consistency. That fervent kneading got me three full minutes of laundry folding. I am throwing my full support behind fervent kneading of all sorts. I’m suddenly very equal-opportunity on the fervent kneading.
Of course, the Littlest Pet Shop pets had to watch. As they do most things in this house. Say, when you’re stepping buck-naked out of the shower. Or perhaps when you are waking up from a relaxing night’s sleep to OHMYGOD THAT DIM-LOOKING BUNNY WITH THE WEIRD FLOPPY EARS AND INAPPROPRIATE BOWTIE IS ONE INCH FROM MY FACE.
Even with the voyeurism, I’d say the gingerbread house was a success. Granted, it did highlight the fact that someone around here is in desperate need of a good old-fashioned anatomy lesson (starting with pointers on how most faces have two eyes), but for $9.99, it makes a pretty good table centerpiece.
Or it would, if someone would stop eating bits of the centerpiece. I tell you, it’s as if my agonized wails of “NOT THE RED #6 ADDITIVE CHIMNEY DECORATION!” simply fall on deaf ears.
So, question for you: How quickly do these suckers go to mold? Because I’m starting to have serious doubts about that door knocker.