Sore-foot sugar high

Today marked either the 18th or 19th annual Chicken Family Cookie Party. OK, originally it wasn't "Chicken Family" 'cause Paige and I were living in sin, and sure the faces have changed over the years, but the basics remain the same: We provide the dough, the cutters and the oven, and the guests provide the labor and the appetites.

Back when this madness started - I think it was 1990, but I could be wrong - the guest list was about 8 or 10 people and one kid. The kid was maybe 3 or so and spent most of the evening eating cookies, then running around in circles until he fell down. Now he's around 22 and I believe either in jail or rehab. So you can see what an influence our parties can have on the young and impressionable. Anyhow, that first party started some time mid-afternoon and ran until midnight. Possibly longer if someone ended up crashing on the couch.

From that foundation a tradition was born. The first year we probably had 10 cookie cutters, tops. The next year we bought a few more, and people brought some to the party for us. The year after that we moved to a rental house and the guest list grew, as did the number of kids involved. Then a few years later we bought our house and had our own kids and the list grew again. I think we peaked about two years ago, with waves of children and adults passing through and barely room in the house to breathe.

This year things kind of calmed down. Not sure if it was the threat of snow (it's snowing as I type this, although it's not sticking to the road) or the relatively late date (we usually hold it the weekend after Thanksgiving), but a fair number of people didn't show up. And as a result (or as a result of the kids getting older) the quality of the cookies improved quite a bit. Far more even rolling, nicer shape, fewer sprinkles on the floor.

What hasn't changed over the years is the chance to see people we almost never see, from the friends that we used to hang with back in the day but have since grown away from to the friends from the kids' pre-school days who we see two or three times a year. Oh, and the massive sugar crash that hits me at about 9:15...although as I recall that first year I got a second wind from the pizza and beer. Ahhh, to be young again.