A preface to my photo essay:
I love my Mom. She dropped by one day to help me out with something, and when she came to the door she had a gingerbread house kit in her hands. I’m pretty sure she can read my mind. That very week, I had seen the exact same gingerbread house kit and wanted to buy it, but didn’t. Call it Mom ESP. I thanked her and gave her a giant hug, and told her that I would be posting photos of the build. This post is my documentation of that build.
After a trip to Bulk Barn to get a few extra tasty embellishments, we were ready to assemble. All the pieces were ready for us.
With so much joy ready to paste onto the gingerbread house, how could anything go wrong?
We decided to decorate the pieces first, so that everything had the best chance to look amazing.
After the decorations had some time to set, we started assembling the pieces. It really started looking good!
The bigger of the two houses posed a challenge, because the walls are canted outwards. I had to hold it for quite a while before I trusted it. What kind of cookie architect designs a house this way?
The little house looked amazing. Beautiful Christmas lights strung along the roof, and a tasty candy roof-top row of deliciousness.
And then s#!t got real. I spent about ten minutes holding the sliding walls and roof together in a panic. I had to re-apply the icing twice.
In order to save my sanity, I switched gears and continued with the sleigh and four (not eight?) tiny, delicious reindeer. There was even a Santa for the sleigh! This build worked ok…
“Let’s leave it to dry,” I said, hoping that I could put on the second half of the roof when the icing had had time to dry. We left the kitchen for fifteen minutes to shovel some snow. And came back inside to the rubble.
Forensic photo of the gingerbread tragedy. No lives were lost, but several were injured. Diabetes was spread all over the floor.
The roof slipped, the walls fell. The original architect and planners are going to pay for this devastation! A law suit is pending, and we are waiting for the insurance to come in.
The little house and Santa’s sleigh survived. Some of the reindeer are leaning drunkenly against the house and each other for support under the weight of the sorrow they felt for the loss of so much of their village.
As with most animals when one of their young dies, we decided to eat the remains. We kept the pieces in a bowl, and cry every time we eat some.