A Christmas Story, as told by Edward
So, last weekend Jenn and I invited a bunch of our friends and their children over for a gingerbread house-making party. Always the overachiever, I opted to make a replica of our own house and its occupants, including the upstairs neighbors, which I finally finished this afternoon–six days and about $50 worth of candy later. Here’s the finished product.
Disclaimer: it is downright impossible to take photographs in my home without Edward elbowing his way into them. He’s like the guy from my high school who was determined to be in every single yearbook photo, so on picture day, he just hung out in the auditorium all afternoon and snuck into every organization’s group shot, including the senior honor society, and he was only a sophomore. Sadly, someone on the yearbook staff caught on to his hijinx, and a few weeks later, they reshot everything and warned the photographer to be on the lookout for a kid with a shag haircut and a Gumby tie. The dude also ran for student government, and his campaign slogan–which he scrawled with Sharpie markers on reels of computer paper–was “Vote for ____________ . He wasn’t born in a log cabin, but he visited one once.” Actually, that may have been someone else. I don’t really remember. High school was a long time ago. Maybe Edward takes after me more than I care to admit.