Coordinating the whole mixing, baking, cleaning, whipping, dirtying every dish, scrubbing little faces, whisking the gravy and timing it all to come together at exactly 4 p.m. while still trying to be kind, patient and unbossy is a nearly impossible task. I’m not ashamed to admit that I dissolved into tears more than once.
But, the tears dry quickly when surrounded by so much loveliness.
I’m grateful for:
a husband who cuts up grapefruit for me,
Xander unloading the dishwasher,
a neighbor who loans (gives) me corn syrup or any other missing ingredient every time (I think I owe him 3 dozen eggs),
grate pie makers,
chocolatey beaters (Gabe is the only child who didn’t help cook. His only job was licking spatulas and beaters while watching Star Wars.),
lemon cream, 2 pumpkin, 2 chocolate mousse, apple, 2 pecan,
peeling potatoes with Grandpa,
a spontaneous duet on Grandma’s baby grand,