Happy Accident

With Mommy and Daddy gone overnight, we were off to great expectations for Monday morning. The French toast breakfast project turned out just fine. Then we moved on to gingerbread men. Eeeek! The only existing cookie sheet was already occupied hosting the wintry vignette with the afore-mentioned, sagging gingerbread house. Not to be discouraged, we determined that the little guys could bake themselves perched on the edges of the muffin tin. This innovation, with limbs hanging over the edges, produced many curious cookies contorted into interesting positions.  

                               

                                

                               

Taking these varied personalities in stride as a happy accident, we mixed up the frosting.  Unfortunately  grandmoni's bag-pinching technique did not turn out to be successful. Icing made with butter and baking ponder instead of powdered sugar is NOT yummy. (Next time I'll taste when I can't read the label.) Frosting batch; take two. 

                               

Moving right along true Martha Stewart style (ahem) we descended upon these poor unsuspecting cookie-critters with mounds of icing, chocolate chips, raisens and sprinkles thus flattening their fragile bodies and  snapping off legs, arms and heads left and right. Nevertheless, a good time was had by all. We devoured gingerbread body parts instead of gingerbread men with our cups of hot chocolate giggling to the last drop.

                     

In addition to getting her height and bargaining prowess from her daddy's side of the family, Mandy must have also attained to her love of adventure through Dennis. He was not at all panicked when our tuk-tuk driver (who didn't understand Dennis's "Thai") was obviously headed in the wrong direction, nor worried when we happened upon throngs of protestors on their way to the demonstration in downtown Bankgkok.  I had to count on his fourty-four year track record of looking out for me and his grand-girls who were accompanying us to the tailor. Sure enough, when we arrived for Dennis's final fitting of his "first-ever-made-just-for-him" suit, the tailor assured us the parade was more like a picnic at that end of town. 

                            

                                  

                                  

                            

  

                                   

True to being a city full of contrasts, we emerged from the jam-packed BTS (Bangkok Transit System) train onto a street corner where we entered Terminal 21, a six story shopping mall extravaganza.  Each floor, theme-oriented after major world cities, boasted scores of designer shops,  world famous labels and more glitz and sparkle than a disco ball. 

 Our little shoppers were quite happy with our major purchase of the day being from the sweet shoppe.

                                 

                                 

These curious, pricey purses that look like they are made of  bubble wrap are everywhere...available in every color of the rainbow. Are you hoping to be a trend-setter and find one in your Christmas stocking, Josie?!?!