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T-minus 1 week to Thanksgiving and all I can think about is pie.

I’m going to be real honest with y’all. I don’t normally like Thanksgiving. I actually see fewer family members than I would at, say, Labor Day (What, your grandma doesn’t throw a giant Labor Day rager? Sucker). I’m also going to be very upfront about this, and I know it may offend some of those with more delicate sensibilities; Thanksgiving food sucks. Turkey is a lunchmeat, not an entree. It’s only good for sandwiches. Mashed potatoes, stuffing, cranberries…it’s all mediocre at best. I’m not decrying anyone’s cooking. I’ll eat it and it’ll probably even taste good. I’d just rather have prime rib or pork chops, ‘sall I’m saying.

But then, about a year ago, something happened. Like a pregnant woman carrying an unborn holiday baby, I developed cravings that could only be satisfied by one Thanksgiving dish. Pumpkin pie. It’s all I wanted to eat. For the past year it has been an oft elusive but always satisfying delectability. Last week, we went to a Veterans Day dinner and I had three pieces. I would have had more, but for some ridiculous reason I felt like exercising some amount of discipline (Yeah, that’s right, holding myself to three pieces is taking it easy). I used to hate it, but now I love the pumpkin pie. We’re in charge of bringing dessert to our Thanksgiving meal with the Jesuits and you know what I signed up to make (I had already planned on making it before I even knew we were expected to bring anything). There is also a potluck Thanksgiving meal for the St. Francis Mission staff tomorrow and I think I put my name down in the dessert column in all caps. I’ve gone pie crazy. I just made my first ever pumpkin pie, but I have to wait until noon tomorrow to eat it. It’s talking to me in the kitchen, whispering, “Mello…come here. I’m so fresh and homemade and delicious. You can just bring leftover cake tomorrow and then eat all of me right now. No one will know. Doooooo it.” Tawdry little temptress.

I need to go to bed now, before I do something dreadfully delicious.

I hope I dream about pie.

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About Maggie

Hilarious drifter. Well groomed bum.
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