⏳ The best gifts aren't wrapped in paper.

Found an old photo today. Just me at 8, making cookies.

I can still see that scratched-up kitchen table, the one where everything happened.

Flour everywhere - my hands, my face.

The house smelled like warm sugar.

Dad was the worst cookie thief ever, leaving trails of crumbs like evidence.

Mom would catch him every single time, but somehow he never learned.

Some cookies came out wrong.

Burnt edges, crooked frosting.

But we ate them anyway, telling stories between bites.

Funny how a simple photo

brings back all these moments.

The mess, the laughs, the burnt fingers.

Just us, being us. That's what sticks with me now.

Not perfect cookies or fancy decorations.

Just regular days that turned special, because we were together.

Happy Holidays to you and your family!