DEAD to me.

Dearest Wax Paper,

After years of fighting with you, peeling mangled sugar cookie reindeers from your clutches before baking, wiping frosting from your face, I have found someone new. That some is Parchment Paper. Oh, I know stupid Martha stupid Stewart has been yammering on about parchment papers virtues for years. But Waxie, did I abandon you? I did not. For years, my misguided loyalty has made sentences like "The one the looks like a dead squirrel is meant to be a mitten" and "That roundish blob is Santa" necessary at the Christmas cookie exchange.

But then, in an act of fortuitous betrayal, you ran out on me, and then, had the nerve to try to charge be $6.50 to get you back. And there was Parchment, and I thought, what the heck? I'll show YOU Waxie! Oh, yes, I will.

And do you know, Parchment helped me roll out even dough, readily gave up perfectly shaped snowflakes and then! Oh yes! AND THEN! stalwartly protected the cookies asses when I put them in the oven! OH HELL YES it did. Perfectly shaped, perfectly browned cookies were finally made by ME. HAHAHAHA.

So Waxie, my dear, this is the end. Never again will I spend three hours baking only to have to eat them all myself out of embarrassment, because me and Parchment are best friends now and YOU, you are dead to me.