Lucky for our guests, her hair wasn't falling out. Nobody wants extra fiber in their beef stew. That's so 2009.
We love cookies. We love kids. Why not invite 50 kids to eat cookies in our playroom?
Every kid gets a cookie ornament with their name on it. You can only blame one cookie on me. The other dozen or so your child ate, well...that's just the way we roll.
I don't think that was your cookie, buddy. Long time, no see, Downstairs Eve!
We had prizes for the people who made the best cookies. Although, someone stuffed the ballot box with "Obama," and I'm still not sure if Obama showed up with cookies or if someone made a cookie named after him, but with 90 people and dozens of cookies in the house, I may never know.
First place takes the cake. Natalie made a sign and taped it to the front door: If you our frst plas then you git the chrismis tree cake. If you our secunt plas you will get a froo [the rest of her thought was on the back of the sign for no one to see].
Apparently secunt plas was a froot cake. But it wasn't a real fruit cake, because there was a clear expiration date on the package. I run a klassy operation, here.