Pick up some take out!

I'm gonna write this real quick before all hell breaks loose in my kitchen, oh wait, that already happened.

So, I'm making the whole feast by my little old self and I'm dragging my butt getting it all done. Duh, I'm in here blogging instead of cooking. Last night I tried to make pie crust and it turned out all weird and gucky (yes, that's a word in my house). Usually, I can fix it, but nothing I did made it better, so I threw in the towel and let the kids play with it.

I think I cursed myself when I was in line at the grocery store yesterday. The clerk was saying how she can't make a pie, never has, is scared to attempt that blah, blah, blah. I was thinking it's not that big of a deal, the crust is only like three ingredients, you really can't mess it up, geesh, follow a recipe. Yeah, I've been trying to dislodge my foot from my oral cavity all morning.

I did buy a couple of frozen pie crust so I baked one for a pudding pie and made a pumpkin pie in the other. I set both the pie and the empty pie shell on the oven. You know what what I'm gonna say, don't you? Was your thought going in the direction of the two year old? He decided to eat the empty shell for breakfast and after I calmly threw away the rest of it and removed him from the scene he snuck back in to get a few finger swipes of the pumpkin pie. He really is the cutest devil I've ever known. I hope he lives long enough for me to retell this story to him as an adult. I'm thinking his life span is getting shorter by the minute. Actually, I think he's driving me to an early grave. He'll have to tell his kids how rotten he was to his mother and how she died so unexpectedly one Thanksgiving day.

Back to the kitchen I go. Happy Thanksgiving.