When I was little, we never left out milk and cookies for Santa.

*cue in violins*

I don’t know whether my parents simply didn’t know about this tradition, or if it just wasn’t commonplace in Hawai’i during the Dark Ages. My cousins never talked about it, so I’m guessing they didn’t do it either.

Perhaps this explains my life-long cookie compulsion — eating them at every possible opportunity, baking them (they are the only gift item I make myself), and constantly seeking out new recipes. During the holidays, I like to be prepared: you just never know when Santa’s going to drop in, or what will please him the most.

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