Nothing spices up the holidays like a properly prepared egg ..

Nothing spices up the holidays like a properly prepared egg nog. Granted, it's not everyone's cup of tea. And with all the sugar, it's obviously not for the peeps out there on the keto diet. But for this little wife, the spiced rum that Scott uses never fails to fill my soul with the spirit of the season. Ironically, however, that same spiced rum also never fails to remind me just exacly how empty my tight little Christmas stocking is. So upon the completion of my third cup (okay- mug -if I'm being completely honest) of the afternoon, I promptly retired to the nearest water closet to remove the cute little panties that I wore to sunrise church service only just a few hours prior. After carefully inspecting the crotch for presentability - as I'm certain all females do before embarking on similar white elephant safaris - I determined that my internal ratings for scent, dampness, and fabric viscosity were all at near record levels. Or as I playfully like to describe this serendipitous little sensory trifecta, "cub catching nirvana." So with great haste, I balled the tiny panties tightly in my palm and made my way to the kitchen to secure something to preserve their full pheromonal potency. This little hunting trip was going to require everything in my feminine arsenal, and the little sandwich bag now cleverly concealed inside my blouse between each of my large and nervously sweaty breasts, was going to deliver the tranquiIizing sedat!ve needed to tag an elusive trophy bull. Fortunately for me, however, I know firsthand the effect that the scent of my fertiIe cunt has on this particular prey - the highly coveted neighborboyus hornious. And sedati0n isn’t exactly the most appropriate metaphor in this particular instance. Because if my calculations are even remotely correct, I will be rendezvousing tomorrow morning in my gym parking lot with a certain well hung lacrosse-playing neighbor who's currently home on winter break. All I needed was a foolproof delivery plan. But what believable excuse could there be for a wife and mother to leave the house on such a truly frigid Christmas afternoon, I frustratedly mused to myself. Until it finally dawned on me - A simple plate of Christmas cookies, as a gesture of neighborly friendship, would most definitely do the trick. (Sorry sweetie! I'll make more this week. I promise) And with that momentous decision out of the way, I promptly texted my y0ung friend to alert him to the extra special delivery he should be expecting within the next 15 minutes.