The girls decorated a gingerbread house on Saturday. It was a kit one that Mum gave us, because I can barely work with even regular cookie-sized portions of gingerbread dough, what with the sticking and the stretching and the burning of edges and final breaking on cookie-removal. Oh, the language that goes on in my kitchen when I try and do something fancy with the rolled cookies. My goodness.
Anyway, I did assemble this one per- the box instructions, melting icing sugar in a frying pan. I kept stirring and stirring, with an increasingly sore arm, until the contents of Frying Pan of Danger were about 90% molten- and nearly-burnt sugar, and 10% toffee-coated lumps of icing sugar. At which point I gave up and used it as is, lumps and all, to stick the house together, which worked well and with a minimum of third-degree burns.
Billie and Beetle co-operated very well, considering the awkwardness of the setup at the table, and a good half-a-dozen lollies even made it onto the gingerbread house.
Unfortunately, a very sad thing happened. I put the house on the wrong side of the kitchen when we were dishing up dinner. Later that night, when I got back from a bit of late-night shopping, I found about three thousand ants had descended upon the house with great enthusiasm.
I had to knock the seething mass into the sink and gingerly prod it down the garbage disposal as quickly as possible to avoid becoming covered in ants, and trying hard not to breathe in the crushed ant smell.
Serves me right for putting anything sugary in the Ant Zone of the kitchen.