I’d forgotten to mention that our cookie house didn’t last all that long. The directions clearly stated that once a cookie or bit of frosting had been applied to the house, it should be considered decoration rather than a waiting snack. I read this to the boys and they nodded — there were still plenty of spare cookies lying around at that point.
But I couldn’t help but notice, over the next couple of days, that the house was becoming progressively less thickly frosted. It happened surprisingly quickly, and yet always when adults didn’t happen to be in the room.
And at the point that all pretense was abandoned and I found Ryan scraping frosting off with his teeth, I decided that thing had to go. I waited until they were distracted and took it out to the trash. By that point it was considerably lighter than I remembered, and fragile as well; its destruction was quick and painless.
Two days later when Ryan finally thought to ask about the house, I told him a sad tale of a minor earthquake, code violations, and the need to put the house down for its own good.