The holiday cookie conspiracy: is it over the top?

When I moved to Michigan years ago, I quickly realized the Christmas cookie culture here was big. It feels like every woman worth her salt (except me) gives up a full weekend to make a zillion dozen of a myriad of different kinds of cookies for the world.

Where I grew up, some people — those who thrived on baking as their love language- did this, but not everyone. I do make batches to give as teacher or hostess gifts. I enjoy baking a few dozen for our church’s cookie walk fundraiser. I’ve learned to make extra for my family to enjoy at home, or I buy more at the cookie walk for a hefty sum. It’s for a good cause, after all.

But that’s not enough.

There’s the cookie parties. Everyone brings at least two, three or four dozen cookies to trade and share with everyone else. When it’s all done, you bring home a very small plate of assorted cookies. But where, pray tell, do all the other cookies go? Does every person at the party eat three dozen cookies? It’s a mystery to me.

And that’s not all.

We have all the church, school, and extracurricular cookie-driven events. Typically, the night before every event, someone sends an email requesting “just a couple dozen homemade cookies” as your admission ticket, plus a small, insignificant but witty, beautifully wrapped gift. No big deal. Just whip up a couple dozen from your perfectly stocked pantry or pull it out of the massive stash you prepared the day after Thanksgiving. Oh, you didn’t? Oh dear. Might want to think about that next year.

Then there’s the family.

When your children find you whipping up that last-minute batch, they’re crushed if there aren’t “just a couple dozen” to eat at home. So you make more... more... more to dial down the whining. Then your husband, who is trying to lose weight, doesn’t want a cookie in sight in fear that he’ll gobble them up in one sitting. So you conceal... stash... scarf the evidence to support his efforts, even though you’re jealous of his willpower. Because you’re nibbling “just one” of every tray coming out of the oven.

I think I’d have to make at least 20 dozen cookies to meet everyone’s demands requests, and it’s enough to put me over the edge. Please tell me, dear readers, who created this madness? Who eats all of these cookies, and how do we survive without them the rest of the year? I love cookies — I do — but I’d like to make them on my own terms. In the age of increasing obesity, over-the-top stress levels, and my own sllooowing metabolism, is this really the right approach? Or am I overreacting, becoming scrooge-like over "just a couple dozen" cookies?

Never mind, don’t answer that. If I have to ask, I already know the answer.

Step away from the oven, sister. Just say no to the cookie conspiracy.

After sharing her thoughts, Pam Stout hasn’t been invited to any cookie parties and is beginning to feel the urge to bake or nibble, she’s not quite sure. She’ll get around to it, but for now she plans to pick up a few dozen at the First United Methodist Church Cookie Walk on Saturday, December 12th. Read more of her rants at BeyondJustMom or email her at pam@beyondjustmom.com.