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Shopping is successful.  With ease, we find a beautiful notebook and a colorful assortment of four gel pens.  The aloe vera socks are hanging in their usual location at one of our favorite stores, and the bath and body aisle reveals a wide array of kits with shampoo, conditioner, and body lotion, completing our gift for day three.

We head for our favorite burger joint to grab a bite to eat before returning home.  As we sit noshing on burgers and fries, Kookie turns towards me.

“Mom, can we bake some cheese straws today to see if they’re any good?”

I smile at my son.  And at the handful of fries which he just shoved into his mouth.  Kookie is always hungry these days.

“Absolutely!” I respond with a grin. 

I love baking with my eldest son.

––

When we return home after lunch, I google the words cheese and straws together along with recipe to see what we can find.  I find my favorite Southern cook has developed a recipe.  With lots of butter.  That’s always a winner.  I select her recipe, but then I discover it calls for self-rising flour, which I don’t keep in the house. 

So I google the recipe for self-rising flour.  I discover that we just need to add a bit of baking powder and salt to the flour.  I adjust the recipe and remove the cayenne pepper.  Of which I am not a fan.  Satisfied with the end result, I quickly copy and paste the recipe into my laptop and print it off.  After changing the font to something more pleasing.

“Kookie, the cheese straws recipe is on the printer.  Will you run downstairs and get it, please?”

“Sure, Mom!  We get to make them now?” he asks with a happy grin on his face as he disappears down the stairs.

When he returns to the kitchen, he glances at Emmie.  She’s seated at the kitchen table.

“Hey, Em.  You want to help me make some cheese straws?” he asks.

“Sure,” she shrugs.

Janna glances at me.  We smile at each other before our eyes stray towards the two lovebirds.

He reaches into our cabinet for the flour container, snags the saltshaker off the counter, and searches another cabinet for the baking powder.

“Mom, where is the baking powder?  I can’t find it.  Oh, wait.  It’s here.  Behind the cinnamon.”  Juggling all three containers, he heads for the kitchen table.

He picks up the recipe.  Then he rolls his eyes.  “I’m going to have to go back downstairs to get butter and cheese from the fridge.”  He disappears again.

He returns a minute later.  As he reads the recipe through, he sighs.  “It says that the butter and cheese have to be room temperature.  That means more waiting, right?”

“Not necessarily.  We have the gift of the microwave.  We can soften the butter in it.  And I think if we spread the cheese on a plate and microwave it for only like five seconds, then stir it and microwave it for another five seconds, it should bring it up to room temperature.”

His eyes brighten as he realizes he’s less than a half hour away from sampling a new snack.  He glances at Emmie.  “Can you slice the butter into tablespoons and set it on a plate?  Two sticks.”

“Sure,” she smiles at him.

While Emmie does his bidding, he measures out the cheese on a plate, microwaves it, mixes it up, and heats it one more time before setting it to the side.  Then he puts the plate of butter into the microwave.

“No more than thirty seconds,” I remind him.

A few moments later, he’s blending two cups of sharp cheddar cheese with two sticks of softened butter using our stand mixer.  Once they’re creamed together, Kookie approaches Emmie at the table.  He begins to measure two cups of flour into a bowl. 

“Hey, Em, can you toss in three-quarters of a teaspoon of salt?”

She does.

“And now two teaspoons of baking powder?”

Kookie whisks all three ingredients together.  Then he dumps the flour mixture slowly into the big bowl of the mixer while blending it.  Releasing a cloud of white powder that slowly descends to coat his shirt.  He glances down at it before shrugging his shoulders and dusting it off with his hand while he lets the mixer beat the dough for five minutes on low.  Then he glances at the recipe again.

“Uh-oh, Mom.  We don’t have a cookie press, do we?” Kookie asks after blending the ingredients together.

“No.”  I glance at the recipe.  “Oh, it’s no problem.  We have gallon Ziploc bags.  We’ll just cut a half inch line across one corner and fill the bag with the dough.  We can pipe it out through the hole.”

“Oh, my gosh!  It’s perfect!  Eleven pipers piping!” Janna laughs.

“So we should give her eleven cheese straws and ten bags of tea then,” I correct our list.  “Can you make the change in your phone, Nana?”

“Sure.”

“That’s the only gift that matches the Twelve Day of Christmas song in some way,” I point out.

Kookie’s eyes grow wide.  “Is there some way that we could connect all twelve gifts to the song?”

“That’s a tall order, kiddo,” I remark.

As Kookie pulls a gallon Ziploc bag from the drawer next to our stove, Emmie looks up the lyrics to the song on her phone.  “‘On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me twelve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a-leaping, nine ladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, five golden rings, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree.’”

“Twelve drummers drumming.  Hmm,” Kookie is thinking.  “We’re making her salt dough ornaments, right?”

“I figured we’d just give her some of the ones we already made,” I respond.

“Or we could make her ornaments a set of drums,” he suggests.

“Hey!  I have better idea,” Janna puts her two cents in.  “What if we made her ornaments that matched the entire song?  After all, day twelve is the grand finale.  Right?”

“You mean, not just twelve drums, but eleven pipers piping?” Kookie asks as he scoops dough into the plastic bag.

“No, not pipers piping.  How about if we made some gingerbread houses out of salt dough?  We could dye the dough brown, and then decorate the houses with what looks like piped frosting!” Janna suggests.

Kookie nods. “I like that idea, but it’s going to take all of us working together.  Do you know how many ornaments we’d have to make?”  He begins to pipe the cheese straws out onto a cookie sheet.

Janna’s math brain kicks in.  “It’s only seventy-eight.”

Emmie’s eyes widen in shock.  “How did you figure that out so fast?”

“Easy.  The first twelve stands alone.  Then, eleven and one is another twelve.  Next, ten and two is a third twelve.  Nine and three, four twelves.  Eight and four, five twelves.   Seven and five, six twelves.  Then six is left alone.  So six times twelve plus six.  Seventy-two plus six.  Seventy-eight.”

Emmie just shakes her head.  I can tell it’s spinning.

“That seems manageable.  If we all work together,” Kookie asserts.

My little twins enter the kitchen looking for a snack.  Everett and Noel follow closely on their heels.

“Whatcha making, Kookie?” Abs asks.

“Cheese straws.”

Alastair wrinkles up his nose.  “Cheese straws?  Are those straws made of cheese?”

Kookie guffaws.  “Definitely not!  You want to drink your milk through one?”

Alastair grins as Abner giggles.

A couple of minutes later, Kookie puts his pan of savory treats into the oven.  Then he returns to the table and seats himself next to Emmie.  I watch their eyes collide.  Then they smile the cutest, little, secret smiles at one another.  As though no one is witnessing their reactions to each other. 

“So, let’s start our list,” Janna pulls out her phone.  “Twelve drums, eleven piped gingerbread houses, ten lords a-leaping.  What cookie cutter can we use for the lords a-leaping?”

“We don’t have any guys dancing?” Alastair asks.

“I know!” Abs comes to our rescue.  “We can use our ninja cookie cutters.”  He jumps up into the air and spins around.  “They look like they’re leaping through the air.”

“Perfect,” I smile at him.

Janna continues to compile her list.  “Ten ninjas ninja-ing.  Nine ladies dancing?”

“You have a ballerina cookie cutter.  I saw it in the pile last weekend when we were choosing our cutters,” Emmie recalls.

“Nine ballerinas.  Eight maids a-milking?”

“Hmm.  Cows?” Alastair asks.

“Maybe,” Janna responds.  “Eight cows.  Seven swans a-swimming?”

“Surely, we can find a swan cookie cutter and a goose one too,” I offer.

“Okay, so seven swans and six geese.  Five golden rings?”

“We can find those in the craft department at the store, I think.  They’ll be the ornaments we don’t make out of salt dough.  Five golden rings,” I reply.

“Four calling birds.  What’s a calling bird?”

Kookie shrugs.  “Any kind of bird that sings?”

“Another bird cookie cutter then.  Four birds.  Three French hens.  Do we have a chicken cookie cutter?  And a dove?”

“Let’s use a turtle instead.  Just for variety,” Kookie suggests.

“And a tree for the partridge in a pear tree.”

My whole troop heads for the stairs.  They’re going to raid our cookie cutter collection in the basement.  Several minutes later, Everett and Kookie enter the kitchen, each carrying a couple cookie cutters.  Kookie sets a tree and a gingerbread house on the island.

“Mom, I went through our mini cookie cutters.   Look!  This one looks like a bird, doesn’t it?” Everett holds his hand palm up.  

I glance down at the tiny cookie cutter in his hand.

“What’s it supposed to be?”

“Santa Claus.”

I turn it upside down.  “Really?  I don’t see it.  It looks like a bird.”

“Exactly!  And look: we have a dove!”  He holds up a perfect bird of peace.

“Excellent!”  My eyes light up.  “I really didn’t think we had one.  But…wait.  Weren’t we going to use a turtle?”

“I couldn’t find a turtle.”

“Well, a dove is better since it perfectly fits turtle dove.”

“Look, Mommy!  I found a baby chick cookie cutter!” Alastair holds his prize high up in the air as he comes sailing into the kitchen.  “Three French hens,” he sings in a cheerful tone.

“I found a goose!” Abs comes running into the kitchen with a gigantic grin crowning his lips. 

He shows me the cookie cutter he picked out.  It’s actually a duck.  But I’m not going to quibble.  We’ll paint it bronze and call it good. 

“And we found the ninjas!”  Abs continues with glee.

Each of my little twins sets two stealth agents on the island next to the bird and dove.  Abner places his duck goose next to Alastair’s baby chicken.

A moment later, the girls enter the room.

“Can we use a duck for the swan?” Emmie asks, coming in behind Janna.

“Possibly,” I hedge.  “Maybe we can figure out some way to elongate its neck.”  But just then a bolt of brilliance strikes me.  “No!  We can use a heart, and I’ll paint two swans on three of them.  And one on the last one!  The neck of each swan mimics the shape of half a heart,” I explain, drawing the top of a question mark in the air with my index finger.

“We couldn’t find the ballerina,” Emmie sighs. 

“That’s okay.  We’ll use the gingerbread mom.”  Janna holds it up.

“There was no cow either,” adds Kookie.

“We can use the gingerbread girl for a milkmaid,” Janna asserts.

“No drum, Mom,” Everett shakes his head as he sorts the cookie cutters now lying on the island.

“No problem.  I can hand-cut that one.  I found a design online.  I was pretty sure we didn’t have that one either.  It’ll be easy to cut out by hand.  We’ll make a stencil to trace.”

“Or we could just use this little soldier,” Emmie holds up a tiny cookie cutter. 

It’s either a soldier or a nutcracker.  I can’t really tell.  But in a pinch, it could be a drummer.  Right?

Kookie begins to line all the cutters up according to their day.  “We have a tree for day one, a dove for day two, a baby chick for three hens, and this bird cutter for day four.”

“Nope,” Janna jumps in, “I found a better bird.  Look at this one.”   She holds out a cutter that is definitely going to produce a recognizable bird.  Instead of a fat Santa. 

“Perfect.”

But as I examine the birds, I find them both problematic.  “The salt dough is pretty thick.  I don’t think either of these will work.  How about we use snowflakes instead?  Four falling flakes instead of four calling birds?”

The kids nod.  They don’t really care.

Kookie continues his inventory.  “Five golden rings.”  He glances at me

“Right.  I need to add those to my shopping list.  Oh, Nana…” I call my secretary.

She smiles at me and opens her phone.

“Mommy?  Couldn’t we just use two of your biscuit cutters to make the rings?” Alastair suggests.

“And then we could paint them gold!” Abs seconds his brother’s idea.

I nod at them both.  “That’s a great idea, guys!”

“Six geese, seven ducks,” Kookie snorts.

“No.  Remember?  My bright idea?  We can use a heart and paint the heads and necks of the swans along the edges!”

“Mommy, that’s a great idea!” Alastair congratulates me for my ingenious solution. 

Sometimes, I think he thinks he’s here just to encourage me.  I ruffle his hair affectionately as I beam down at him.

Kookie continues his tabulation.  “Eight gingerbread milkmaids,” he’s laughing again.  “Nine gingerbread moms, ten ninjas, eleven gingerbread houses with piping, and twelve drumming soldiers.”

“Perfect,” I grin.  “Except…the ninjas are huge.  I think we should use the little stocking cookie cutter we have.  Ten lords-a-leaping can be replaced by ten elves-a-leaping.”

Kookie flashes his pearly whites at me.

“And the same goes for the nine ladies dancing,” I point out.  “How about we use ice skates instead of the gingerbread mom?  Nine ladies skating?”

Janna nods.  “Good idea.  Less to paint.  And I have some really pretty silver paint we can use on the blades.”

Suddenly, the oven timer goes off.  Kookie grabs a potholder and opens the oven door.  He pulls the pan out and examines the cheese straws.

“Are they done?” he asks me.

I grab a metal spatula and free one from the pan.  I break off a piece and eat it.  Then I look at the bottom of the cheese straw.  It’s still pale.

“Nope.  A couple minutes more.  These should be a light brown on the bottom.  They taste good though.”

Kookie carefully grabs one off the pan.  He pops the hot cheese straw into his mouth.  His eyes grow wide as a huge grin spreads across his face.  “These are amazing!  We should definitely make Mary a batch!”  He puts the pan back into the oven.

Three minutes later, I begin to serve everyone a cheese straw.  They all sample one of the cheesy biscuits.

“They taste like cookies, only savory,” Janna points out after sampling one.

“That’s exactly what I thought!  They are like the savory version of pecan balls!” I assert.

“Oh, yeah.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on which cookie they reminded me of, but that’s it,” Janna agrees.

“It tastes like a cheese puff,” Alastair comments as he hands half of his cheese straw to Abner.  Alastair doesn’t care for cheese puffs.

“Well, I think they’re absolutely delicious.”  I am thoroughly enjoying noshing on my cheese biscuit.

“They’re smoothly crunchy,” Abs opines as he savors one.

Kookie grins and stuffs another into his mouth.  Then he glances at me.  “Should we get busy making a batch of salt dough so we can make Mary’s ornaments today?”

I smile at my very helpful, eldest son.  “That would be great, Kookie!”

“Can we start painting the ones we made last Saturday?” Abs asks me.

I grin down at him.  “Absolutely.  That’s a great idea.  Nana,” I glance at my daughter, “can you bring all the paints out here?  I’ll go get the ornaments.  Emmie, would you like to help Kookie cut out the ornaments for Mary?”

She grins.  “Sure.”

“Okay.  I’m going to get the rest of you set up at the dining room table to paint.” 

I head for my craft room downstairs.  I left the ornaments out to dry all week.  Time to bring the pans full of them upstairs.  We’re going to have a lovely afternoon preparing for Christmas. 

I’ll turn on some Christmas music to be festive.  Maybe O Holy Night.  Of course, it won’t be Jungkook’s cover.  But I smile as I remember that tonight he’s going to serenade me again.  In my own living room.