Can You Eat Too Many Cookies at Christmas?
Dr. James L. Snyder
Christmas was over, and the house began to quiet down in a good way. Don’t get me wrong, I love the noise when all the family is together. It is a good feeling to be with your family during this wonderful holiday season. I love the energy!
I enjoy the presents and watching the family opening theirs, but I especially love the holiday feasts prepared by The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage.
There was only one time when she really messed up. That was when she had broccoli at the holiday feast. Nothing is more disgusting to me than seeing broccoli on the table. She only did it once, for which I am most grateful.
Someone might ask what my favorite item on the table was. I would reply by saying, the item that is in my mouth at the time.
This Christmas season, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage baked a truckload of cookies and shared them with friends and neighbors, who greatly appreciated them.
The only problem with The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage baking cookies is that I’m in the same house, and the smell infiltrates every room.
I can be in my office, busy on a project, when suddenly the most fascinating aroma fills the room: cookies baking in the kitchen.
There is a very strict rule in our house about cookies: I can have only one, and only if The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage gives it to me. Otherwise, it is a forbidden fruit.
Every so often, she will slip me a second cookie, and I’m so appreciative of that small gesture.
The great thing about our family coming together for Christmas dinner is that there are so many of us. With the little ones always very noisy, I try to stir up that noise as much as possible—after all, isn't that a grandfather's job?
Amid all the holiday noise, I sneak a cookie. If The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage doesn’t catch me, it’s okay—or so I think.
I must confess that eating these cookies is not my fault. After all, if the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage did not make so many delicious cookies, I wouldn’t be tempted. In short, my eating cookies is not my fault but hers.
I’ve tried several times to explain this to her, but she still doesn't buy it. Her idea is that I can only have a cookie if she hands it to me.
During the holiday festivities, with all the noise, I can sneak cookies whenever I want. The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage is so focused on the family, especially the great-grandchildren, that I can get away with it. So, if I get away with it, it’s all right. Right?
As our family festivities began, I noticed the stash of cookies the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage had baked. The grandchildren love her cookies.
As the festivities begin, I asked The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage if I could give some cookies to the grandchildren. After all, I explained, she was too busy to do this.
I must say I caught her by surprise, and because she was busy with something else, she just said, “Okay, but remember, no cookies for you.”
With a big smile on my face, I picked up a plate of cookies and took them around to the grandchildren. There was so much activity that I began eating a cookie now and then. I made sure the plate was in front of one of the grandchildren before I picked up a cookie. I think I covered my tracks pretty well.
The first grandchild I took the cookie plate to looked at me and said, “Papaw, do you want one of my cookies?” Now, how can you refuse your grandchild? I thought it was my grandparental duty to respond to my grandchild by saying, “Oh, my dear, thank you so much I appreciate that.” And the cookie disappeared from the plate into my adoring mouth.
I was very cautious because when I went to one of my grandchildren, I often made sure to check where The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage was and whether she was looking and in my direction. When she wasn’t, it was a signal for me to get another cookie.
My only question during this festive time was: How many cookies are too many?
After the family activities were over, I relaxed with some coffee and The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage came in and sat down. She looked at me and asked, “So, how many cookies did you eat today?”
To answer that question would get me in deep trouble. Instead, I replied, “Wasn’t our great-granddaughter so cute?” That was enough to distract her and get her talking about our great-granddaughter. I ducked an arrow with that.
While the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage went on and on about our great-granddaughter, I remembered a Bible verse I read in my devotions.
“Give thanks unto the Lord, call upon his name, make known his deeds among the people. Sing unto him, sing psalms unto him, talk ye of all his wondrous works Glory ye in his holy name: let the heart of them rejoice that seek the Lord” (1 Chronicles 16:8-10).
No amount of trouble can rob me of rejoicing in the Lord. Everything I have is a gift from the Lord, and I’m going to appreciate it the rest of my life.