There are two things that are loved in my home. The first is Jewel, our beloved black lab mix; and the second is baked pumpkin items (and I may have the wrong order). It never fails that whenever something quite ridiculous has happened (such as finding a bat attached to the car antenna) or maybe even miraculous (like finding the television remote), that there must be some sort of pumpkin prize. Whether it’s a pie, cupcakes, cheesecake or cookies, my family will pull out all the stops for this coveted prize, even if I say, “It’s not that time of year yet!”
Generally, I do not pull out the fall recipes until October at the earliest, but all year long I’m stalked relentlessly for the taste of pumpkin. I’m not quite sure why my family has the addiction of sorts, but they try to persuade me with any excuse possible. Their favorite persuasion has been anywhere from getting better grades in college to feeling more ambitious to perform the various chores that have been on the list for months. So, having pumpkin pie, in other words, somehow instantaneously turns my two boys and husband into house renovation enthusiasts within an hour. You’d think that I’d take advantage of this situation, however, I have tried and all I see are a threesome of couch potatoes who end up so full they want to put it off until later when they can better catch their breath.
But the best persuasion and the one most used, I might add, is that I must bake pumpkin something, anything for the health of my husband’s eyes. After all, he does have deteriorating vision and must have pumpkin for the vitamins. The doctor even said so! And if I refuse, his vision will be irrevocably lost forever and it will only be the mean, non-baking mother to blame. This is, of course, followed by the exaggerated, sappy look my husband bestows on me to accentuate the need.
And if this doesn’t work, then I’m usually the victim of a pity party on Facebook.
Does it work? Hell no (okay, well sometimes). And here I am on Labor Day, September 1, 2014, soon to mix up a batch of pumpkin batter for another round of cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. The pumpkin heads will be lined up for the mixing bowl and spatula oozing with leftovers and soon will have the victory of another year of pumpkin tasting before the season. There’s only one problem – this time, I offered.
Hurry up and get here Fall!
Generally, I do not pull out the fall recipes until October at the earliest, but all year long I’m stalked relentlessly for the taste of pumpkin. I’m not quite sure why my family has the addiction of sorts, but they try to persuade me with any excuse possible. Their favorite persuasion has been anywhere from getting better grades in college to feeling more ambitious to perform the various chores that have been on the list for months. So, having pumpkin pie, in other words, somehow instantaneously turns my two boys and husband into house renovation enthusiasts within an hour. You’d think that I’d take advantage of this situation, however, I have tried and all I see are a threesome of couch potatoes who end up so full they want to put it off until later when they can better catch their breath.
But the best persuasion and the one most used, I might add, is that I must bake pumpkin something, anything for the health of my husband’s eyes. After all, he does have deteriorating vision and must have pumpkin for the vitamins. The doctor even said so! And if I refuse, his vision will be irrevocably lost forever and it will only be the mean, non-baking mother to blame. This is, of course, followed by the exaggerated, sappy look my husband bestows on me to accentuate the need.
And if this doesn’t work, then I’m usually the victim of a pity party on Facebook.
Does it work? Hell no (okay, well sometimes). And here I am on Labor Day, September 1, 2014, soon to mix up a batch of pumpkin batter for another round of cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. The pumpkin heads will be lined up for the mixing bowl and spatula oozing with leftovers and soon will have the victory of another year of pumpkin tasting before the season. There’s only one problem – this time, I offered.
Hurry up and get here Fall!
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