You know those little things that stick in your mind that totally destroy stories? Like how the hell anybody knows what Charles Foster Kane’s last word was anyway, what with him dying, you know, alone? Well, it was just pointed out to me that the icing goes on the Gingerbread Man after baking. Either the Gingerbread Man lay very still while the old man and the old woman decorated him, or he just doesn’t have eyes and a mouth and the snazzy little buttons on the front.
That’s it. The story is ruined for me.
chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek,
-Vardibidian.
Maybe he was sleeping when they dipped his hand in frosting and then tickled his nose…
It occurs to me that I don’t actually know the story of the Gingerbread Man — if pressed, I would’ve guessed that he was running away from being eaten, not from being baked. And in that context, the icing makes perfect sense, of course: Raw dough, bake, add icing, and he comes to life! And then of course takes it on the lam to avoid getting munched. But that is probably not actually the story, huh? Wacky.
Oddly enough, the Gingerbread Man is not runnning away from being eaten, at least not at first. The Old Man and Old Woman have no children, you see, so of course they decide to … look, I knew that part made no sense, but it made fairy-tale sense.
The cow, butcher, pig, farmers, or whoever else joins the chase (and of course the fox) all want to eat the Gingerbread Man. But the Old Man and the Old Woman wanted him for some sort of Family Activity, the details of which are fortunately never made clear.
Thanks,
-V.