driving me nuts

holidays and traditions are synonymous to me, and when i think about it, most of these traditions involve food. for example, by atkins definition, big family dinners include stuffing, not dressing. we always have mashed potatoes with my dad's famous gravy. and we leave cookies out for santa and a carrot for rudolph on christmas eve. (on christmas morning, only crumbs are left, accompanied by a hand-written thank you note from st. nick himself.) out of all the aforementioned foods, by far the most important are the cookies. as i composed my grocery list last night, gearing up for baking season, i made the mistake of asking chris if there was any particular variety of cookie he'd like me to make this year. "snickerdoodles," he immediately replied. i looked incredulously at him. snickerdoodles? i thought. surely he can't mean that bland dough-y thing with sugar sprinkled on top. he got defensive. "you asked me, so i'm telling you. i want snickerdoodles." i sighed inwardly. ever the loving wife, i reluctantly agreed to expand my repertoire. but then he had to follow it up with something much more ridiculous -- blasphemous, even. seven words that make me wonder how in the world i married the man. "i don't like nuts in my fudge." a woman must stand her ground on the significant issues, and here is where i draw the line. liam and i whipped up a batch today, using my mom's traditional recipe -- walnuts and all. when it comes to fudge, i will not budge.