Adventures in Gingerbread

This year we are doing all the quintessential Christmas activities. We have already made ornaments, decorated the tree, baked cookies (yet to be decorated) and bought presents for everyone on our lists. That just leaves the gingerbread house... I never really made one as a kid, I mean unless graham crackers iced onto a milk carton and covered over in random cereal and a sweet assortment of candies counts.
So this was a new experience for me too. We got the kit (thank you Grandma and Grandpa Bill) and I read the directions (only 9 steps for two houses, how hard could it be), Things started out fine,

Then they got interesting,

then they got better. Claire was much better at the decorating than I thought she would be.

And even Nick got in on the action.

The houses were shaping up just great. Than I turned my back. I should have learned by now that every mothering story that has that line in it never turns out like a fairy tale.
When I returned, Nick had green icing IN his ear, and his house looked like some kind of massacre had occurred on the front lawn, and a bomb had blown the right side of the house apart. Claire was covered in icing as well, armpits to belly button (thankfully we had by then taken off her white shirt).
I think we did a pretty good job. I'm counting it a success in parenting. Possibly a one time success.