Skittles optional, patience required
Last night Brad and I dove head first into a gingerbread house making kit. Eyes big as saucers with all the candy in sight, we channeled our inner grade schooler and set about making the most epic gingerbread house ever.
I don’t understand how anyone could attempt to make one of these things without the kit (and detailed instructions). See below for supplies — wine, however, was not optional. This was tough stuff.
After nearly gluing our fingers with icing, we managed to accomplish the task at hand(s). I’d like to welcome you to our humble gingerbread abode.
The snowwoman sitting happily in our front yard greets you, Hello! Please, watch your step as you make your way across the gummy path and thank you, I like the purple doorknob, too.
Although gumdrops and gumballs alike were included in the kit, we weren’t satisfied with the mediocre amount of candy. My tip when using kits: always get more candy. You will use it.
And so we sought out some extra skittles for our siding. See below for the boy’s side. I do quite like what he did with the landscaping.
Making sure each skittle was set to perfection on my side required patience I soon found out I lacked. The world would end if my purples didn’t come after my reds. God D! I dropped another on the floor.
After completing the patterned roof side, I added a bit of 6-year-old shrubbery found in the back of my cabinet. The rock-hard consistency of the once-gummy trees was of no concern to us. Gingerbread houses aren’t for eating!
Conclusion: Brad had far more patience. So much so that he even began decorating the back of the house. BUT NO ONE EVEN LOOKS AT THE BACK! I raged. Yet he meticulously continued picking up multi-colored candies one by one and sticking them into the frosting until the whole doorway was framed.
After all of the gooey and gummy, through the compromise and complaints, it did turn out epic — and I couldn’t have done it without him. But he couldn’t have done it without me, either. He would have eaten all the candy.
