accept no substitutes
He knows if you've been bad or spacecolonspace,
So be spacecolonspace for goodness' sake.
Santa Claus is Coming to Town
from the Christmas Song Generator.
I'd rather it said "He knows if you've been spacecolonspace or good," to tell the truth. Doesn't scan any better, but more accurate.
Finally finished with the holiday baking. I've had people panting outside my door the past few nights as all sorts of sweet and spicy things were fluffing up in the oven. I know some of my cookies get instantly reutilized as 'of course I cooked them all myself!' party snacks, but that's fine with me. They bring joy whether they're consumed by the intended or by other guests.
I'd keep a few for myself, but I'm so sick of anything round and floury that they'll probably just go to work. Probably snapped up before they even cast a shadow on the table. Mysterious cookie benefactor strikes again.
Librarianing and baking. How shamefully girly! Best go lift something heavy.