Played Candy Land with my teenage daughter tonight. It was a fierce competition, with much quoting of Veggie Tales (”I’ve been stuck in the Molasses Swap for 38 turns!”… “Still stuck.”), but in the end, and she totally kicked my butt. Mr. Mint betrayed me.

I once ran across a description of my generation that called us “grunge-listening, Starbucks-drinking, flannel-donning slackers.” Finding it highly amusing, given my great affection for both grunge music and a good flannel shirt, I teased my oldest that he only wished he was one. (His response: “We flannel-donning slackers drink Mountain Dew nowadays.”) Whatever. I am committed to doing my part to raising the next generation right: in flannel. So far, so good – even the small boy has embraced his destiny.

Then, I go to check my email….

I’m horrified by the way my personal correspondence is lost amid the sea of advertising. Advertising that I signed up to get.

To make matters worse, I never even read them. Oh, I may occasionally open the Hobby Lobby ad, knowing their tendency to give 40% off any one item, but I don’t even bother with the rest of you. Not even the devotionals – not after the first time. Sometimes, in a moment of guilt, I archive you, promising myself that I will look at you later. Usually, however, I just delete. I know I should tell you I’ve lost interest rather than just resenting your constant presence. Once in a while, I do find the time to open particularly prolific advertisers and use your SafeUnsubscribe link. But what about ministry updates and daily devotionals? Unsubscribing from you makes me feel like a heathen.

Still, I never read you – I don’t have the time. So what choice do I have? Unsubscribe.

Truthfully, the answer is yes, yes it is that much better. I never knew chocolate chip cookies could be this good.

Of course, mine were only almost perfect, as I do have a tendency to not follow recipes exactly. Perfection would be out of character for me, anyway.

Recipe is here: Cook’s Illustrated Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies

That was not all he brought to the table, however – oh no, it was not. He also made some fabulous barbecue baked beans and a delicious macaroni salad. You may wonder why I didn’t mention this before. Well… I didn’t want to give anyone the impression that he doesn’t normally contribute to the feast (whether he does or doesn’t is irrelevant – I didn’t want to imply it), that he’s a newbie to the provision of Thanksgiving dinner, that he had any apprehension about the edibility of the spread this year. Although, in all fairness, he may well have had a great deal of apprehension about his daughters’ ability to cook something up to the standard of fare he was used to – particularly his youngest daughter’s, but he certainly never said so. Besides, he deserves his own post, don’t you think?

Photos courtesy of my niece, Felicia.