This year will be S’s true first Thanksgiving, the first one she will actually be able to enjoy as a fellow diner of all things turkey. She was too young to partake her first year of life and then last year we were in Deutschland. (Have I told you about our German turkey day? A story for another post). So this year, this year I am very excited, because I plan on drafting her for my team. Nay, converting her to my beliefs. You see, I love pumpkin pie. I believe in pumpkin pie. Pumpkin pie is something I look forward to every year and despite this it’s something I don’t always get to have at my holiday table. Because I am in a mixed-marriage. My husband is vehemently anti-pumpkin pie, oh, he’ll eat apple and even Oreo mud, but try to hand him a forkful of my favorite orange stuff and he ducks.
He DUCKS to get away from a dessert.
This is just a very long winded way of saying I very much like is traditional holiday dessert, but I think I’ve reached a certain limit. I just don’t understand the proliferation of pumpkin spice flavored, well, everything. When I was little, we had pie, we had pumpkin muffins, sure, but none of this other stuff. Must everything be pumpkin flavored? Really? Well, today my curiosity got the better of me. I picked up this:
Do I need to tell you it was awful? No, I think this year Jon is just going to have to put up with pie and hopefully I’ll gain a little ally for the years to come.