My mother has already sent me the baking list for Christmas. She does this because we make SO MUCH STUFF that it takes us over a month to complete everything. Thankfully, cookie dough and such can be frozen.
This year, however, she has gone mad.
In addition to the usual recipes from Busia and our yearly favorites, she has decided we are going to make everything we haven't had in years. She's lost some of those recipes, so she's deigned me the Researcher, as I am the one with internet access and inner working knowledge of public libraries.
Our conversation on the phone tonight went something like this:
Her: "I need you to find Date Pinwheels. They're in the "Good Housekeeping 75th Anniversary" book that came out a couple of years ago. I need THAT recipe. No other."
Me: *typing* "Um, Mom... According to this, that issue came out in May 1960. You were twelve."
Her: "Oh. Well then it was in SOME "Good Housekeeping" book. Maybe the 100th?"
Me: *typing* "Nope. Their website has a recipe search, and I can find all sorts of stuff with dates, but no pinwheels."
Her: "Well, search the internet."
Me: "Okay." *typity typity type* "I have one result that looks a lot like the recipe Busia had."
Her: "Does it have brown sugar? The brown sugar is very important."
Me: "Yes, but it makes seven dozen."
Her: "Print it."
Me: "Mom, we don't need seven dozen date cookies. We can cut it in half, though."
Her: "Print it. I want it. Seven dozen is fine."
Me: "Mom, seven dozen is 84 cookies. We do not need 84 Date Pinwheels in addition to the other ninety million things we're making."
Her: "Don't argue with me, Sarah Ann. Print it."
I printed it. You don't argue with the use of your middle name, even if you are 28 and have been living away from home for eleven years.
I'm starting to realize taking extra vacation days around Christmas weekend was an excellent idea. Now all we need is a bigger kitchen...
As we were talking, I heard my father yelling in the background. Apparently, while he was painting the dining room, the dog put a paw in the roller pan and then hopped out, only to run all over the house in terror, which ended up getting paint everywhere.
My dad was running after him with a rag and turpentine, my mother was still going on about date pinwheels while pausing to yell at both my father AND the dog, and I couldn't decide whether to laugh or... no... I had no other choice; I laughed and laughed, and when my mother scolded me with a clipped and oh-so-Irish, "That's not funny," I laughed even harder.
I love my family.
This year, however, she has gone mad.
In addition to the usual recipes from Busia and our yearly favorites, she has decided we are going to make everything we haven't had in years. She's lost some of those recipes, so she's deigned me the Researcher, as I am the one with internet access and inner working knowledge of public libraries.
Our conversation on the phone tonight went something like this:
Her: "I need you to find Date Pinwheels. They're in the "Good Housekeeping 75th Anniversary" book that came out a couple of years ago. I need THAT recipe. No other."
Me: *typing* "Um, Mom... According to this, that issue came out in May 1960. You were twelve."
Her: "Oh. Well then it was in SOME "Good Housekeeping" book. Maybe the 100th?"
Me: *typing* "Nope. Their website has a recipe search, and I can find all sorts of stuff with dates, but no pinwheels."
Her: "Well, search the internet."
Me: "Okay." *typity typity type* "I have one result that looks a lot like the recipe Busia had."
Her: "Does it have brown sugar? The brown sugar is very important."
Me: "Yes, but it makes seven dozen."
Her: "Print it."
Me: "Mom, we don't need seven dozen date cookies. We can cut it in half, though."
Her: "Print it. I want it. Seven dozen is fine."
Me: "Mom, seven dozen is 84 cookies. We do not need 84 Date Pinwheels in addition to the other ninety million things we're making."
Her: "Don't argue with me, Sarah Ann. Print it."
I printed it. You don't argue with the use of your middle name, even if you are 28 and have been living away from home for eleven years.
I'm starting to realize taking extra vacation days around Christmas weekend was an excellent idea. Now all we need is a bigger kitchen...
As we were talking, I heard my father yelling in the background. Apparently, while he was painting the dining room, the dog put a paw in the roller pan and then hopped out, only to run all over the house in terror, which ended up getting paint everywhere.
My dad was running after him with a rag and turpentine, my mother was still going on about date pinwheels while pausing to yell at both my father AND the dog, and I couldn't decide whether to laugh or... no... I had no other choice; I laughed and laughed, and when my mother scolded me with a clipped and oh-so-Irish, "That's not funny," I laughed even harder.
I love my family.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
misterdoom:
The girls got out their revolving disco light and were playing Village People from a mix CD they're mom made for them... 
cathedra:
Hahahahaha that's hillarious! My mom never uses my middle name..sometimes I wish she would. (Andrea Cecile) your family sounds like so much fun. 