Another failed attempt to imitate Michelle Burk

What a charming picture I saw on Michelle Burk's blog of her cute little daughter sitting on the counter unwrapping Hershey Kisses, participating already at such a young age in the holiday baking. I thought my toddler and I could have such a moment, and today, I tried to create that. I am baking chocolate chocolate chip cookies (nothing could go wrong with this as the start, right?) and wanted to put candy cane kisses on them. I got the bag of kisses out, primed my toddler by asking if she wanted to help Mommy, and we both settled on the kitchen floor with a plate full of wrapped kisses and an empty bowl. Handing the first kiss to my daughter, I instructed her to unwrap the kiss and put it in the bowl. Then I looked at her other hand and DOH! I totally forgot that her right hand is wrapped in gauze - a "magic mitten" helping her hand to heal from burns sustained on Saturday. There's no way this kid can unwrap kisses. Never fear, I rally my spirits, not willing to let the moment be lost, and tell her I will unwrap, and she can put them in the bowl. She promptly popped the first one in her mouth. To be expected, I thought; she's almost 2. The next two went in the bowl, and the fourth kiss went straight into her mouth. Having only a two year old mouth, there's not a lot of room for kisses, so now the candy cane colored drool starts rolling out of her mouth and onto her sweater. She jumps up and runs across the house. Now my two year old, who previously was yawning, is now, after licking a beater and maybe a bite or two of cookie dough and two candy cane kisses, streaking back and forth across the house, candy cane drool flying, having ingested - right before naptime - enough sugar to fuel a small jet in a cross country flight. I foolishly put her in her crib where she is now yelling "Mooooooooommmmm, oh MOOOOOOOooooooooommm" at the top of her lungs. The legend of Michelle lives on in Philadelphia First Ward, and I am settling comfortably in as Mediocre Molly. I am, however, at the very least, highly entertained.