
The year 2010 will be the year remembered as the year Mom lost her sense of humor about our gingerbread house.
I arrived at our friends' house for our afternoon of gingerbread with our house assembled, royal icing ready to go (foolproof recipe here) and edibles for decorating the house purchased. As our friends peacefully created their beautiful farm (previous post), my teenage sons started their annual ritual of creating stabbed snowmen, snowmen with their heads blown off, and the like. In past years, I was amused. I even joined in. But this year I had had enough (and my husband didn't like the sick humor in the first place). I put my foot down.
In retrospect, I should have told them in advance that it was time to think of another way to express their creativity. I wouldn't have minded a funny theme, but in my book, violence isn't part of the Christmas spirit.
My 15-year-old son, who avoids unpleasant situations and especially irritated Moms, resigned himself to putting waffle-shaped pretzels on the roof and arranging Peeps Christmas trees around the house. He spent about a half hour on the house and wandered off. My 13-year-old son would not be dissuaded, and created a few things that he found amusing. I gave in and let him put it on the board, but Mom gets her way in the end. I'm not showing his stuff on this blog post.
So let's move on. Did you spy a doghouse in the background? Why yes, my friends, it was Snoopy's doghouse. It was a piece of unfinished business I had related to gingerbread.

Instead of having a big Snoopy house, I thought we could have a little doghouse behind the regular size gingerbread house. (That makes our big house Charlie Brown's house. In my memory, his house is nondescript so I figured we had creative license.) I made Snoopy's house from graham crackers and sculpted Snoopy out of regular and vanilla Tootsie Rolls. His Christmas lights were black licorice strings and mini M&Ms.



Pay no mind to the snowman with red splotches on the ground next to it.