Canes of the candied variety

I state with some equivocal authority that like most members of the male species, peppermint is not my favorite spice.

Spearmint, fine. Wintergreen, okay...unless while munching a wintergreen lifesaver you are mistaken for a Skoal Bandit user.

Those original Altoids - death mint.

Given that, candy canes have never been on my list of must-consume-during-the-holidays treats.

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for the iconographic symbolism that the traditional red and white cane of candy represents.

The aroma of a loved one smacking on the hooked candy is pleasing to my minds palate. I enjoy the visions of the holidays that the striped confection offers my ever shrinking grey matter. Heck I even love to watch them get mixed, cooked, and stretched on so many Food Network shows featuring the behind-the-scenes life of our favorite foods.

Just don't like to 'et 'em is all.

So what's the dilemma then?

My daughters.

To their youthfully innocent eyes, candy canes represent the most basic of good-li-ness that this particular season has to offer.

Along with all the fun and frolic the mere mention of the combined wording of "candy" and "cane" suggests, the appearance of which triggers all the enormity of a holiday wherein the overwhelming input of presents far exceeds even their spoiled splendid expectations.

Top that off with the obvious fact that candy canes are indeed candy, and well, you've painted a Normy Rockwell picture of the perfectly edible holiday icon.

Daddy be damned, candy canes rock in my girl's world.

Now egg nog, well, that's an entirely different beast, so don't go and get me started on that delicious monstrosity of raw egg, spices and milk.