Every year my friend Kristen hosts a holiday brunch and cookie exchange. She is a gracious hostess with a lovely home. We drink champagne mimosas and eat things I could but never seem to make. In the dining room, all the guests add their favorite holiday cookies to share to make a festive and delicious display.
At the end of the party, we pile up our platters with cookies and head home with our loot. This year I bring pastry boxes to fill with treats to drop off.
“City hall or the police department?” I ask my husband this morning.
“Police.” He answers with no hesitation.
“Hedge our bets?”
Our safety center houses both the police and the fire department so I bring enough for both.
I knock on the glass window and the front secretary comes around to greet me.
“My boys and husband were here last night with the Scouts. I wanted to drop these off to say thank you and happy holidays.” The firefighters gave them an extensive tour of the firehouse and living quarters. The boys saw the trucks and ambulances and where the firefighters sleep. F. even brought home a copy of his fingerprints. I guess it's good to get him on the record early.
“They were most impressed that the fire fighters were eating tacos for dinner,” I add.
She laughs. “Tell them they eat tacos most nights.”
And cookies. Tonight, they eat cookies.