In a couple of my slices this week I listed the reasons I’m an asshole parent and the best mom in the world. One of the reasons my kids would say I’m the best mom ever revolves are one special day in December just before Christmas.

Cookie Day. Capital C capital D. It’s practically a holiday in our house. It all starts about a month before Christmas Eve. Actually, it begins in the summer when I get the homemade vanilla soaking. But the month before Cookie Day, I start looking through my cookie recipes and browsing the notes I made from previous years. I search websites and blogs looking for a new recipe to add to our repertoire.

You see, each year, we add a new tasty treat. After sampling it, we decide if it makes the cut to stay on the list for the following year. We hadn’t added anything in a long time. Then a few years ago, snickerdoodles were declared a winner. Then a year or two after that, they loved magic cookie bars. This year, we tried cran-pistachio cookies that I loved. We also got crazy and tried some Twix thumbprint cookies that I’ll never make again.

I make a spreadsheet to track how many of each batch and all the ingredients I’ll need. I’ve research how many cups of flour are in a five pound bag (18 cups) and how many teaspoons of cinnamon are in a four ounce jar (20 teaspoons). My spreadsheet calculates my grocery list and I place the order.

Starting 2 weeks before the big day, I begin mixing and labeling all the batches. On the big day, I place the pads on the dining room table and line them with brown craft paper. My mom had a roll just like mine from my grandpa. She had it for many MANY years. When I started baking, I ordered one for myself.

We preheat both our ovens (we are very fortunate for this), don our aprons, and start baking dozens and dozens of cookies. This past Cookie Day, I estimated that we baked about 60 dozen cookies plus 3 batches of fudge and 2 pans of bar cookies. We had about 15 different varieties of treats.

We all love this day. We roll and drop cookies together. The kids taste test while Aaron, McKenna and I work the ovens. We all end up over sugared and way too full to even eat dinner. When complete, we store everything in air tight containers until we package everything up for family and friends to distribute a couple days later. It’s the one time of the year I bake. I’m actually not a great baker preferring the creativity of cooking to the science of baking. However, over the years I’ve mastered these recipes and a handful of quick breads and cakes.

Will my kids remember this magical day? I hope so. Whenever we have a party and they see the dining room table pads or the paper roll comes out of the closet to clean it out, they ask if it is Cookie Day. Since it only comes one time a year, it is likely not their beloved Cookie Day. But they sure can hope.

I am writing for the 18th annual Slice of Life challenge presented by Two Writing Teachers.