It was December 2006 with our family gathering to make the traditional christmas cookies. Peanut butter kisses are my favorite; the dough touches my tongue,and my taste buds ignite like millions stars twinkling at night.

Being little about 5 years old this was very exciting for me to be baking cookies with my grandma. When I got to her house her big mixer was on the counter, the recipe laid out next to it along with the ingredients. My first job is to unwrap all the hershey kisses and put them in a bowl. I would sneak one or two but I didn’t tell my grandma.

I would watch my grandma measure every ingredient so perfectly, and then I would get to dump it into the mixing bowl.  

We make perfect rows of cookie dough balls and now it’s time to bake. Waiting for the cookies to get perfectly fluffy seemed like it took forever. The sweet smell in my grandma’s of the cookies baking got me so excited as I was waiting for the timer to go off when they were done. I knew the most important job was coming and it was mine. Standing on my step stool the bowl of kisses in front of me it was my job to place every single hershey kiss in the middle of the cookie.

The hardest part for me and my grandpa was waiting for what seemed like an eternity to try only one cookie, but when we did have the cookie it reminded me why this was my favorite cookie ever.