So last week we decide to do a Thanksgiving Food Day at my office.  Everyone's going to bring a dish, we're going to make a real T-Day feast.... and I volunteered to bring pies.  Anne?  Pies?  Yes, I swear.  I agreed to do it.  And not go to the store and BUY pies.... actually MAKE them.

I got an email back from one of the girls at work saying, "You know that means you have to turn the oven on, right?"  So what's that?  An insinuation that I can't cook?  I'll have you know... ALL of you... that I CAN cook, I simply choose not to. ;-)

So, last night, I rush to the grocery store to pick up my ingredients.  I am making TWO pies... a pecan pie and an apple pie.  I hurriedly make it to the gym in time to work out for an hour and then zoom home to start my pie-baking adventure.  Slicing, peeling, coring apples, roasting pecans, mixing filling… Rolling out dough, covered from head-to-toe in flour humming a little diddy, enjoying my kitchen and feeling quite domestic.  I was up until 2 AM completing this task...

When I went to bed, I had two glorious pies... A golden brown apple pie and a dark, rich-looking pecan pie.  I was sated – I had proven that I could indeed bake, and as it appeared, bake well.  The house smelled warm and inviting, familial… I felt content knowing that I could keep up with the more "domestic" ladies out there, baking pies and whipping up dinners to satisfy their men.  There's a lot I can do in that arena, but I don't think anyone will ever say they dated me for my cooking skills...

I woke up this morning tired from just a few hours of sleep.  I hurriedly dressed, readying myself for the day, anticipatory of the morning, excited to walk in to work with my two beautiful pies, smile proudly with them.  Feel like the champion I know I am....

I pulled on my shoes, dashed down the stairs and entered the kitchen to find….

Shattered glass all over the kitchen floor.  I wondered, what could that be?  What broke?  I looked to the cooling rack where I left my magnificent apple pie (as it was so late when I took it out of the oven and I didn't want to place it immediately in the refrigerator).  I saw plastic wrap, but no pie….. that pie wasn't anywhere in the kitchen in fact.

There was, however, a shattered pie dish and two very guilty looking dogs staring back at me while licking their lips.

I do have a homemade pecan pie, but I had to stop at the bakery this morning for an apple….

And I brought pictures of the destruction for all the doubters... (just so you know?  It must have been delicious... as there isn't even a piece of crust left....)