I Shall Not Run, Gingerbread Man, and I Have Absolutely No Interest in Catching You

You have one job, and it’s purely aesthetic. (Image credit: Audrey Burges)

You’re out of your jingle-jangling mind if you think I’ll tolerate demands that I “run, run as fast as I can” in my own house, let alone from some Manic Pixie Dream Cookie that just hopped uninvited out of my oven.

It takes a lot of damn nerve to ask ME, a MOM IN DECEMBER, to do ONE MORE THING, unless that thing is “put…