HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
Have a fabulous day!
PS....I've noticed the photos have vanished from lots of my blog posts...anyone else having this problem?
After the pumpkin patch we came home so the Little Prince could have his nap, we could have lunch and get on with making the pumpkin pie and the other food we were taking to Thanksgiving dinner.
I gathered the ingredients for the pie - the usual items like pumpkin (surprise!), sugar, evaporated milk, eggs, spices and a pie shell (no I don't make my own pie crust, I prefer to choose my battles). I got the pumpkin filling all mixed up, into the pie shell and into the oven. Perfect! Everything was moving along smoothly as I opened the next can of pumpkin to prepare the pumpkin-chocolate cake I know the Suburban Prince loves. Would you believe I even got to sit on the couch for a little while to watch RHNJ/ATL/NYC! The Suburban Prince was out getting something and the house was quiet and peaceful.
When the timer dinged for the pie I leapt up, eager to keep my big plans for the day moving along. I grabbed the oven mitts and cracked the oven door open just a bit to make sure the pie was done....it smelled so good! I put the oven mitts on and picked up the tray the pie was baking on. Pain. PAIN! I tried to push the tray with the pie on it back into the oven while trying to figure out why my hand was on fire (not literally, it just felt like it). Unfortunately someone who is in pain might not have the best aim and the tray didn't quite make it back onto the oven rack - I watched it tilt forward, teeter, then plop - it fell forward and the pie spread itself between the door and the crack between the door and the oven. This might have been a good time to start drinking.
There was nothing to do about the pie at that moment so I investigated and found a hole in my oven mitt! Right in the crease between the thumb and hand part so now I have a lovely little blister and a new pair of oven mitts.
As I was scraping the pie off of the oven door I could hear the Little Prince crying *sigh* and because you know life never hands any mom/princess just one disaster at a time when I got upstairs to get him I discovered he was soaked, head to toe. I would love to think my life is fabulous and glamorous all the time but occasionally I have to change a diaper and clean up the little body the diaper is wrapped around.
Just as I was putting the Little Prince in his high chair so I could get on with the rest of the baking, such as making a second pumpkin pie, the Suburban Prince walked in the door. He almost walked right back out but being the good man he is he opted to take his chances and stayed to find out how my hand was, what he could do to help and to find out if I think the first pie was still edible. Sometimes all I need to do is glare.