My husband's favorite week.

Tomorrow is the first day of Pie Week.

I didn't actually know that it WAS pie week, until I was talking to Hubby today. I had just come back from doing the grocery shopping, and was listing the few things we need to facilitate nine people and a dead bird at our table on Thursday.
"Can I get the bread?" he says to me. We always get our bread from a special local bakery for Thanksgiving, because it's so good. Well, that and I'm a stuffing snob. That's for another day, though.
"Sure" I said. "Why?"
"Because last year they gave out free pie"
I give him the look. The one that says "I love you, but you are a ten-year old"
"So if I get the bread, at the time I get there, there's a chance that there will be free pie. And you know, free pie."
This is when I found out he has been going around work telling everyone that "next week" is "Pie Week". This is why, when I visit him, I get glances that say "you are such a strong woman".

Once, about a year ago, a very close friend of ours got his U.S. citizenship. We attended the party, and I called the day before to ask if there was anything I could bring. As we were having the conversation, our friend asked if I could bring Apple Pie. This being a Citizenship celebration, it HAD to be Apple.
"Sure" I said, glancing at the clock. It was about four. "But I might buy the pie, I don't know if it will be homemade".
As our friend was telling me that was fine, I glanced at hubby. The color had drained from his face, his jaw had dropped, and his eyes were glazed over with a look that said "I can't believe you can birth children, and will not make pie for me". That's how I wound up making two Apple pies from scratch in one night, in the middle of July, for a party. Shame.

Now, you have to understand where this comes from. My husband is born of a long line of pie makers. Nana (his grandmother) once served me a quarter of a homemade apple pie and was amazed when I couldn't eat it. So was I, it was so good...but it was a quarter of a pie and about five or six inches tall. And it came with milk. Before we got married, I asked his mom to teach me to make pie, and she said "oh, just follow the recipe"...which she gave to me...I've learned there's a little more to it than that...but not much. It really is (cliche' alert) EASY.

I won't be making the pies for Thursday, my Mother in Law will...because she makes superior pie. I can guarantee you, however, that many conversations this week will revolve around pie, that hubby will be bringing it up over and over, and that he will bow down and pray to whatever God made up pastry after dinner on Thursday.

It will be great pie, though.