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Pepper danced around the kitchen, her wooden spoon a makeshift baton as she stirred the cookie dough. The smell of sugar, vanilla, and butter filled the air, and she hummed a cheerful tune.
“Lucile!” Pepper called, pausing her stirring to look over her shoulder at the giraffalope, who was perched precariously on a stool. “Now remember, no eating the dough until the cookies are baked. Raw eggs, you know. Bad for you.”
Lucile nodded solemnly. “Got it. No dough.”
Pepper raised an eyebrow but returned to her task. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Lucile sneaking pawfuls of chocolate chips from the bag.
She frowned. “Lucile, that’s enough chocolate chips! You’ll make yourself sick.”
“But you didn’t say anything about these!” Lucile said with a mischievous grin, popping another chip into her mouth.
Pepper sighed. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me if you eat too many and—”
“Never!” Lucile interrupted, her mouth full of chocolate.
Pepper rolled her eyes and got back to her work, quickly shaping each cookie with the precision of an elf who had spent years perfecting festive treats. By the time the dough was scooped onto the baking sheets and placed into the oven, Lucile was slouched on the stool, her ears drooping.
“Lucile?” Pepper turned to see the giraffalope clutching her stomach.
“I… I think I ate too many chocolate chips,” Lucile groaned.
Pepper sighed again, shaking her head. “I warned you.”
“You warned me about the dough,” Lucile muttered. “Not the chips.”
Before Pepper could respond, Lucile’s stomach let out a loud, gurgling sound. “Uh-oh.”
Pepper barely had time to grab a dish towel before Lucile leaned over the counter and—
“Bleh!” A cascade of chocolate chips spilled from Lucile’s mouth, scattering across the counter like tiny, sugary marbles.
Pepper froze, her spoon hovering mid-air. “Did you just…puke chocolate chips?!”
Lucile nodded miserably.
Pepper looked at the giraffalope, then at the counter now covered in shiny, uneaten chocolate chips. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, grabbing a spatula to start cleaning up.
Lucile whimpered. “Am I gonna be okay, Pepper?”
The elf softened. “Yes, Lucile. Elves and, I have to assume, giraffalopes are built to handle a lot of sugar, but you should probably stick to hay for the rest of the night.”
Lucile nodded, flopping onto the floor dramatically.
As Pepper cleaned up the mess, she muttered to herself, “I bet Santa never thought we’d need a rule for this.”
Later that night, as the cookies cooled on the counter and Lucile snored softly in the corner, Pepper made her entry in The Book:
Do bake cookies to spread holiday cheer. Don’t let your giraffalope eat an entire bag of chocolate chips unless you enjoy cleaning sugary puddles off the counter.
a pinch of homestead 