Kirsten was a disaster in the kitchen with one notable exception: she was a wizard at baking. Christmukkah was her time to shine. Traditionally, she switched her baking into high gear around when Seth got out of school for the holidays. She even allowed him to eat Chrismukkah cookies for breakfast once in a while.
The first day of winter break, Seth was roused by the delicious, sugary aromas drifting up the stairs. He knew there'd be a Crock-Pot full of homemade hot chocolate on the counter (no Swiss Miss for the Cohens, no sir). He also knew that Ryan had no idea that a bounty was waiting for them. Seth all but jumped out of bed and headed for the backyard. He walked right into the pool house without knocking. Ryan was sleeping peacefully on the couch but not for long.
"Ryan, Ryan! Wake up!" Seth shouted, giving his brother a shake. "It's Christmukkah!"
Ryan groaned and tried to push Seth off him. He'd stayed up late watching movies the night before and was in no mood for his antics. Opening one eye, he saw Seth's face was lit up with excitement.
"Seth, what are you doing?" Ryan asked, his voice sleepy and annoyed. "It's not even eight in the morning."
"I know, I know, but you have to get up." Seth grinned. "It's the first day of winter break and you know what that means."
"No, I don't," Ryan said shortly.
"C'mon, man, I've only been telling you about it for the last two weeks." Seth said. "It's time for the most awesome tradition ever! It's time for the breakfast of champions—Christmukkah cookies!"
Ryan blinked in confusion and disbelief. "Christmukkah cookies?"
Seth nodded eagerly. "They're the best thing ever. They're also the only thing my mom can cook without burning the house down. She makes them every year, starting right after I get out of school. She makes everything, Ryan: chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, gingerbread, sugar, snickerdoodles, brown sugar, and, my personal favorite, peanut butter. First day of winter break, she always lets me eat them for breakfast. It's the most wonderful time of the year, dude!"
Ryan kept staring, still not sure if Seth was serious or joking. He propped himself on one elbow and said, "You're kidding, right? You're telling me that your mom—"
"Our mom." Seth corrected. "It's been official for months."
Ryan sighed. "Whatever. Fine. You're telling me that our mom-who can't even boil water, who ordered catered food for Thanksgiving and has a personal chef the rest of the year-you're telling me that she bakes cookies? And she lets you eat them for breakfast?"
Kirsten was elegant and sophisticated; he couldn't picture her ever getting her hands or clothes dirty. Besides, as hyper as Seth was in general, Ryan knew there was no way Kirsten would ever allow his brother to eat that much sugar at once. This had to be a prank.
"Yes, yes, and yes. Trust me, Ryan, you're in for a treat. Literally. Come on, bro, let's go. I can smell them from here. They're calling our names. Well…mostly mine, but I'm sure there's some for you too."
Ryan knew Seth wouldn't stop bugging him until he got up, so he reluctantly did. Seth led the way to the main house, still chattering:
"Now I usually start with a peanut butter cookie, gotta have your protein, you know. And follow that up with an oatmeal-raisin, keep the breakfast-ish theme going…"
Ryan followed him, still half-asleep and half-doubtful. But when they walked in the back door, he saw that Seth was, indeed, telling the truth. Sitting on the kitchen island was a decorative platter heaped with cookies of all shapes, sizes, and flavors. There were a few kinds Ryan didn't recognize. Plugged in near the fridge was a Crock-Pot of hot chocolate, even though it was 72 degrees outside.
Kirsten was wearing a Christmas T-shirt and jeans, her blond hair held up with a plastic clip. She was smiling and holding a spatula. Her Santa Claus apron and hands were already smudged with flour, chocolate, sugar, and icing. Ryan wondered how long she'd been up.
"Good morning, boys," Kirsten greeted. "I see you're ready for some Christmukkah cookies. Help yourselves but be careful with the molasses ones. Those might still be a little too warm." When Ryan hesitated, Kirsten winked. "Don't worry, Ryan. It's not a prank; it's a tradition. Welcome to the family."
Seth, holding a peanut butter cookie between his teeth, was ladling hot chocolate into a mug with a reindeer on one side and a Star of David on the other. He put marshmallows in the hot chocolate, then a huge mound of whipped cream on top. Seth started filling another matching mug.
"I don't think this is really hot chocolate weather." Ryan said.
"So? You drink coffee every morning," Seth pointed out.
"That's different."
Undeterred, Seth pulled a tray of ice out of the freezer. He emptied Ryan's mug and the ice cube tray into the blender. The noise set Ryan's teeth on edge. Seth refilled the mug with the contents of the blender.
"One frozen hot chocolate." He set the mug on the kitchen island in front of Ryan. "I'll make you some too, Mom. Least I can do since you've been slaving over a hot stove to make these Christmukkah delights."
Ryan took a sip from his mug. Even with ice, the drink was still rich and chocolatey. The baking smell in the kitchen intensified from the batch of sugar cookies Kirsten had put in the oven. Ryan felt his stomach growl.
'When in Rome,' he thought with a shrug.
He took Seth's advice and started with a peanut butter cookie. It was soft and still warm. It was also absolutely delicious.
"They're good, right?" Seth asked, watching his brother's eyes roll back in his head.
The only thing Ryan could think of to say was, "Wow."
Seth walked to the kitchen island for another cookie, oatmeal-raisin this time.
"Betty Crocker, eat your heart out!" he exclaimed.
"Yeah, thanks, Mom," Ryan said, now working on a chocolate chip cookie.
Kirsten laughed. "You're welcome, boys. Merry Christmukkah."
"Dude, try a gingerbread dreidel next." Seth pointed them out. "My mom makes her own frosting that is so good."
After breakfast, they decided to play a round of Grand Theft Auto in the living room. Ryan was kind of dizzy from all the sugar and a little too full, but he was happy. He thought he could learn to really like Christmukkah, even if it was overwhelming.