Nana's Cookie Tin

Nana's got her apron on The red one with the tear My boy has brought his little stool And flour for his hair She lets him push the cutter down He needs both hands to try Then holds his lopsided Christmas star Up proudly to the light

I stood where he is standing With dough beneath my nails Now she gives him all the easy jobs And me the baking trays

Pass around Nana's cookie tin Let another Christmas in Take the ones with crooked edges Those are always made by little hands There's enough for everybody And a few to take back home Pass around Nana's cookie tin Nobody gets just one

There are bells outside the kitchen On a ribbon by the door Granddad tries to sneak a biscuit Nana says, I've counted four He says, Ruth, I'm only checking That they're fit for everyone She says, Good, then check the kettle And he puts the kettle on

My boy is icing buttons On a man without a head She says, We can keep that one, darling He's our taste tester instead

Pass around Nana's cookie tin Let another Christmas in Take the ones with crooked edges Those are always made by little hands There's enough for everybody And a few to take back home Pass around Nana's cookie tin Nobody gets just one

Nana, I remember Being small beside your chair I thought the best part was the sugar Now I know why we came here You never minded all the flour Or the time it took to clean You just kept a place beside you Now you keep one here for him

Pass around Nana's cookie tin Let another Christmas in Take the ones with crooked edges Those are always made by little hands There's enough for everybody And a few to take back home Pass around Nana's cookie tin Nobody gets just one

He asks if we can come next year She says, You'd better, son Pass around Nana's cookie tin Nobody gets just one