The Argyle Sweater by Scott Hilburn for December 10, 2018

I’m sure someone will regift you.

Took me a while to figure out what it was. Maybe because it had that hole in the center.

Long after the rest of you have disappeared, I’ll still be here.

Maybe if you were coated in fluffy, delicious frosting . . . or, maybe not.

Good one!

Well, you’re a little too nutty…

I wanted to like fruitcake when I was young, I really did. But candied fruit, bleah.

I love fruitcake! Notice I even used an exclamation point.

There’s a competition involving flinging fruitcakes with a catapult around here…

Alexi, you are basically a cruel and evil person. To leave out the actual recipe for your Mom’s fruitcake is the true act of such a person! I’m gonna tell Santa to put you on the permanent naughty list!

Store bought fruitcake can be improved with a soak in good brandy or rum. But I don’t understand people’s almost atavistic reaction to fruitcake in general. I make “fruitcake” cookies during the Holidays, with candied fruit, cinnamon, and cloves. If I label them as fruitcake cookies, my husband’s coworkers avoid them like the plague. But if I label them “Holiday Lights” cookies, my husband says they’re almost gone by the first break at 10am. Same cookie, different name. Maybe if we just re-name fruitcakes, folks who claim to hate it (some of whom have never even had any in their lives) will find that it’s actually a delicious treat that can be toasted, or fried like french toast, or slathered with butter, or served warm with a dollop of ice cream, or just simply enjoyed as is.

Mom used to make fruit cake every year at Christmas. She went home to be with the Lord this past May.

Little known fact: Fruitcakes are not actually baked; they’re mined.

Darn dangerous thing to leave lying around on a playground.

Try the deer with the red nose.

I have a theory that black holes can be absorbed into fruitcakes.

And that’s when the fruitcake decided to go eat worms.