Dear Honey Maid: All I wanted for Christmas this year was the simple joy of constructing a festive, candy adorned house out of graham crackers, surrounded by good friends and holiday spirit. But apparently, that was too much to ask for, because no amount of cement icing, candy cane buttresses or engineering finesse could make your pathetic excuse for graham crackers resemble anything but a pile of broken dreams. Thanks to whatever “recipe” changes you’ve made over the years, your once sturdy crackers designed to split along pre-scored lines now crumble into a million pieces when put in contact with as much as a spice drop. As a result, my carefully selected Christmas music was drowned out by my cursing of your worthless product, and a night intended to inspire glorious displays of holiday architecture quickly disintegrated into a sad display of temper tantrums, excessive candy consumption, and spiked cider-induced drunkenness. Thank you, Honey Maid, for destroying my one attempt at Christmas cheer and replacing it with the dysfunctionality and disappointment I’ve come to expect during the holidays.