Gingerbread House
“Driving home for Christmas,” A female voice sang out, “can’t wait to see those faces,” she rolled out the gingerbread dough, breaking off a small piece to eat raw. She knew her children always screwed up their faces when she did that. She glanced up at the Christmas-themed cuckoo clock on the wall, only half an hour until they finished school and her husband would bring them home, and they would see the Christmas decorations which they both had put out especially for them. She glanced out the window with snowflake lights on, her eyes locked on the glowing golden tree in the front garden by the front door.
The whole kitchen was decorated too with candy cane striped tea towels on the oven, tinsel wrapped around the beams and mistletoe hanging in the middle. A small Christmas tree made of lights sat in the corner by the kitchen door and candles lined the windowsill. Once the dough was all rolled out and ready she grabbed the classic gingerbread man cookie cutter and made one single gingerbread man cookie. The rest she made the walls and roof of the house, she carefully carved the design in the walls and roof her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she focused. She popped the cookies into the oven and cleared the kitchen while baking.
She kept singing to herself and saying as she washed up, the water nice and warm against her skin and bathing her Christmas candy cane-themed nails. She heard the wheels of her husband’s car pulling into the drive on the gravel, her family was home now and that was when the timer rang as the cookies were now ready, she grabbed the green and red glittery holly decorated oven gloves and took them out placing them down on the side filling the kitchen with the smell of warm spices. Her husband and children stormed into the kitchen,
“That smells nice,” he said and kissed her cheek.
“Mummy, can we decorate it yet?” one of her children asked.
“Not yet, it’s still too hot give it a little while to cool down. Why don’t you go into the living room and help your father to decorate the tree,” she says. An hour later the cookies were cool enough to decorate. She calls in her children and husband, “no eating til tomorrow,” she says looking at her husband as he pops a gumdrop into his mouth.
“Of course not,” he said placing the icing on the front, drawing windows onto the gingerbread.
“I’ve never seen a messier window,” she giggles.
“I am sorry I am not an artist like you!” He replied. She started attaching one wall to the back and her husband put the front and roof on. The pair stepped away and let their children decorate the house giving them free rein of the house and decorate it any way they liked, it was surprisingly tidy and not as messy as they expected.
“I think they take after me,” she smiles picking up the only gingerbread man and starting to decorate him and placing him outside the house attaching him with white icing. The door on the gingerbread house was green and red, and the roof was decorated in white and gumdrops lined the middle of the roof. “That’s beautiful!” She smiles and places the finished gingerbread house onto the side with the rest of the Christmas treats ready for consumption the next day.
