Cream-cheese-filled Pumpkin Rolls are a longstanding tradition in our house. My mother-in-law has made them for the masses every Thanksgiving and Christmas for time immemorial, raising enough funds for Christmas shopping to make Santa look stingy. I sold a few myself back when all of the kids were little, working far into the wee hours while the wee people slept.
Now my girls do it. Last year was their first time, and they raised a respectable amount of money. This year I was dragging my feet about the whole ordeal but they were undeterred by my whining and our lack of a freestanding freezer.
The noise and mess are terrific, and so is their level of motivation. It started today: this morning I woke to a sparkling clean house. The children were knocking on my bedroom door to ask if they might just run the half-mile to my sister’s house and back to borrow some baking soda. And run they did. They were there and back, over hill and dale, in a flash.
And then it began in earnest.
They made 12 before they ran out of sugar. Now I’m waiting for the mess to evaporate. It might be a long wait. I might need a snack while I’m waiting…