Page 77 of The Santa Rules
“A puppetry of the penis but with cookies!”
He’s not even phased by my aunt’s interjections at this point.
“I’m not sure what we’ll do this year, because it’s not like you can just go to Pinterest for ideas for this sort of thing. But I’m sure we’ll come up with something,” I say as I scoop out the flour and place it on the island.
“We could do tattoos, or piercings. The ladies love those,” Delilah suggests.
“I mean, that’s cool and all, but we need something that really stands out. Something that pops.”
“What about that picture you sent her the other day? The elephant trunk?” Hardy asks.
“Oh, thank you, I totally forgot I made that one. We could do an animal theme!”
“I knew the shape of that cookie looked off. Makes sense now,” he says, shaking his head. “And the Only Fans joke. Only Cookies, because they’re all penises, makes way more sense now.”
Delilah looks at me. “Do you think we could make a legit OF account and get away with just posting cock cookies anonymously? There’s someone who would pay to see that, right?”
“I dunno, seems risky. That sounds like an after-retirement side hustle,” I say, tapping my chin.
“This is great and all, but I can’t let Avery make cock cookies. She’s six, we have not had the birds and the bees talk, and I’m not going to let a penis cookie cutter force my hand on that.”
Isaac walks in right as I’m zooming in on the nuts-turned-elephant cookie. “Oh, that’s a good one. Text it to me? I want to show my friend the nuts on that one.”
“We’re not showing our nuts to anyone,” I say as he busts out laughing.
“You walked right into that one, Mom.”
Hardy tilts his head in confusion.
“Isaac got tired of me always saying ‘that’s what she said,’ so now he tries to set me up to say the most unhinged things.”
A toothy grin lights up Isaac’s face as he looks at Hardy while he opens the fridge. “She makes it way too easy.”
Hardy scrubs his hands down his face. “Can we get back to the cookies? I’m not letting my daughter make cock cookies.”
“Yeah, I was at least ten when we started,” Isaac agrees, taking a bite of an apple.
“He’s right,” I say to Delilah.
“I guess we could go the traditional route this year.” Delilah sighs reluctantly.
“Thank you,” Hardy says as his shoulders relax.
I gather up the cock-ie cutters and pull out a bin with traditional Christmas-shaped ones.
“Giraffe!” Avery shouts.
“In the kitchen, Butterfly.”
“There you are,” she says as she runs in and pulls a chair up to the island to help. “Is it time to make cookies now?”
“We’re almost done mixing the dough. Why don’t you go ahead and pick out the cookie cutters that you think Santa will like best?” I lay out several options for her to choose from.
“We should use ones that won’t burn,” Avery says as Hardy rubs at the back of his neck.
“In that case, I’m going to rule out this candy cane one because it’s not as thick and that could burn easily if we aren’t paying attention,” I say.
Avery nods thoughtfully as she taps her finger on her chin. “I want to do the tree, the sock, and the bomb,” she declares proudly as she holds up the tree, stocking, and ornament cookie cutters.
