The boys won't eat pumpkin pie. I consider this a sure sign of evil, but short of shaving their heads looking for the mark of the beast, I'll shrug and prepare the pumpkin as a savoury. Really, what else, save for demon possession could make someone dislike pumpkin pie? I adore pumpkin pie-but I can't eat an entire one, and pumpkin butter is one of those things the FDA says is no longer safe to home can. At some point, I'll drag myself over to Village Inn, have a slice of their pie to sate my yearly pumpkin pie obsession, and then spend the rest of the year complaining how their pie isn't as good as mine, and I'd bake one if only my family weren't troubled by demons.
I hear you asking, "Well why buy sugar pumpkins then? Aren't they kind of expensive for something no one likes?"
Yes, well there's that, isn't there? I dunno, they're cute. Haven't you ever brought something (one) home because it was cute? I mean, sometimes-most times that works out OK, and when it doesn't well heck, at least you've....geez, I've just personified a damn pumpkin, haven't I? Next, I'll have it screaming, "Don't roast me" in the pan and be forced to display it on my front porch until a badger runs off with it.
You know, really I should just bake myself a pie, eat until I'm ill, and dustbin the rest. I really should.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment