Thanksgiving at My House

Okay, so I'm not done with stories from my past.

The very first Thanksgiving I spent away from home was when I was 4 months into my marriage and just 21 years old. My husband thought it would be a great idea if we had all the single students over to the house for dinner and naive babe that I was I said "Sure!" As plans firmed up I learned we would have 4 young men as our guests and I was a nervous wreck. I called my mom every hour for days up to the big day asking how big a turkey to buy and how did I make dressing and when should I.......on and on. One thing I was confident about was the pies. I knew I could make pies - they didn't scare me a bit. Somehow I got it all together and on the table shortly after our guests arrived. Grateful single men that they were, they ate heartily of everything. Then it was time for the piece de resistance....pumpkin pie. I had made two and one was a little prettier than the other so that is the one I brought to the table and cut. Generous pieces were placed on each plate and a big bowl of Cool Whip (I don't care what anyone says that tastes better than real whipped cream.) . Conversation slowed as they began eating and I sat back (I don't care for pumpkin pie so I was abstaining) and surveyed the situation. I had done it! I had cooked Thanksgiving dinner!! I reached over and took a small bite of pie from my husband's plate and nearly choked.

I was a very insecure 21 year old and laughing at myself was a skill I simply did not possess. Mistakes of any sort were met with silent mortification. Which explains why I ate that piece of pie with a smile on my face.

Didn't every one make their pumpkin pie without sugar? I. LEFT. OUT. THE. SUGAR. FOLKS. The pie that wasn't as pretty? Perfect. Since that time I'm a bit paranoid about serving people anything I haven't tasted first. But today it would crack me up. Then I wanted to cry.