We had a delicious Thanksgiving dinner this afternoon. The best ever–even with no dessert. Me, I'll always opt for another beer with something crisp and salty, rather than something sweet.
When we finished eating, Tom called his brother. They had had an incredible dinner too, including cherry pie.
Larry and Barbara called us on their way to the airport to pick up their friends from Holland. Barbara had made a pie. It was cooling at home and would be ready to eat when they returned.
Just as we were leaving for a walk, my sister called. She was at my mom's, and had brought a home cooked dinner up from Atlanta in her car trunk. Including cherry pie.
After our walk, Tom said, "I'm going to Safeway. I can drop you at home first if you'd like."
"Going to Safeway! You're kidding." How many trips had we made to Safeway already today? "Why?"
"I want to buy some cherries."
"Fresh cherries?"
"No. Canned cherries. Tart."
"For a pie?"
"No. I'll just eat them out of the can."
"Tom."
"It's OK! I just want some cherries. It's a Thanksgiving thing."
"That's pathetic." (Panic rising.) "Drop me at home and I'll start on the crust."
