For the first day of fall Lucy requested pumpkin pie, who am I to object to a request like that?
We worked in the kitchen. First we made the pie crust. She is getting quite handy with the dough cutter, though every minute or two she asks me to scrape it down, returning all the chunks of butter to the flour in the bowl. The waiting between the steps is really the hardest thing for her. While we wait for the dough to cool in the freezer we prepare the pie filling. She does almost the entire thing, with just a few whisks by me at the end to incorporate the clumps that always seem to cling to the bottom of the bowl. Pie dough comes out of the freezer and is ready to roll out. I do most of this, but Lucy takes a few turns with the rolling pin. She watches as I crimp the edge with a fork saying things like, “ooh, that looks so pretty” every twenty seconds. Back into the freezer the pie dough goes for another fifteen minutes. Growing increasingly impatient that we are not yet shoveling delicious pie into our faces, Lucy continuously asks “is it time yet?”. I reply; “just a few more minutes”. “It is really hard to wait”, she tells me. Yes dear one, it is hard to wait. Pie is worth waiting for though. Finally. We take the crust out of the freezer, fill it with the pumpkin filling and place it into the oven. I remind her that we are not eating it when it comes out of the oven, but are waiting for daddy to get home before cutting into it. “It is really hard to wait” she repeats. Out of the oven it comes. We place it in the middle of the table to gaze upon for the rest of the day–until daddy comes home. Every so often I catch her trying to crumble off pieces of the crust, and remind her that we have to wait. Finally dad is home from work. We finish dinner, her at an alarmingly fast rate, and us slowly as we talk about our days (to this she let out several exasperated sighs and “are you done yet?”s). Table is cleared and pie is cut. We all bite in, but as soon as the pie hits my lips I realize, “ohhhh, I forgot the sugar!”. Thankfully as I have become more experienced as a parent I have gotten faster on my feet. “Hang on”, I tell Lucy as the tears are welling up in her eyes. I grab the maple syrup and drench each of our individual pieces. All is not lost.