Halloween Cream Cheese Sausage Balls

Ingredients:

• 1 lb hot sausage, uncooked
• 8 oz cream cheese, softened
• 1 1/4 cups Bisquick
• 4 oz cheddar cheese

Preparations:

Preheat oven to four hundred degrees fahrenheit. Mix all of the ingredients until well combined in a large bowl or a mixer. Personally, we prefer the former, mixing in a large bowl and taking shifts when our arms get tired. Once they are fairly combined, roll them into one-inch balls. Then, bake for twenty to twenty-five minutes, or until brown. (If you are using frozen sausage, add a few minutes to baking time.)

I felt so accomplished when we had completed those steps, washing my hands as my aunt put them in the oven. "Finally, we're done," I said. "Now, when will they be ready, again?"

"In about twenty minutes," my mother answered, cleaning the countertop of the mess our cooking left behind. My aunt was shuffling around some of the dishes that were already made to make room for the upcoming sausage balls.

"Well, I'm going outside to hang out with the boys," I said, grabbing a handful of candy and running out to the front porch just in time to see my brother, dressed in convincingly terrifying attire, scare a couple of trick-or-treating girls that looked at few years older than us. I sat down next to my uncle and began to munch on the candy, laughing along with them as the girls tentatively returned for their bounty. Then, before they had the chance to retrieve the candy promised, my cousin scared them off the premises in an equivilently convincing garb.

We sat out there for what seemed like ages, talking and laughing and nibbling on candy before my aunt came out, informing us that the sausage balls were ready. At that, I rushed inside, eager to be the first to taste them. I picked up a handful and dumped them into the bowl; thus, I burned my hand, since they were just out of the oven. Then, I returned to the front porch where my cousin and brother remained. They were both picky eaters, and preferred not to eat the sausage balls we had worked so hard on.

"I don't eat sausage," my cousin said, waving my off nonchalantly. "It just doesn't taste good to me."

"Me, too! Sausage is gross," my brother puffed, trying to follow my cousin's example.

"Yes, you do! You eat sausage when Mom cooks it for breakfast!" I exclaimed, determined to convince my brother into trying them.

"Well, they don't look like that. That looks gross."

I decided against continuing the argument, knowing that I wouldn't sway his stubborn view of the sausage. He would rather continue his reign of terror of the property, anyway. I took over candy bowl duty, freeing my brother to roam the yard and seek out his victims. No longer interested in the candy, I felt more generous as I handed out candy to the brave children who dared to approach us. While they began devouring their candy, I was busy savoring every bite of the sausage balls. Their warmth made my stomach a hearth, fueling the flame inside me that kept out the chilly October air.

"Can we bring some sausage balls home? Please?" I begged as we gathered our things and piled them into the car. An hour had gone by since the sausage balls had been taken out of the oven, and it was getting late. My aunt, worn out and sleepy, soon conceded to my demands. Appeased, I barely even noticed my mother apologizing for my manners as I climbed into the car with my brother. As we drove home I drifted into a tranquil slumber, my stomach still containing the warmth of the dying flame in the hearth.