When Daniel got off the bus from school on Wednesday he asked if I could make a pumpkin pie. I know they can't be on the letter "P" yet, because they were just on the letter "H" the last time he'd hopped off the bus, but apparently there had been pumpkin talk at school. My guess it has to do with the upcoming field trip to the local pumpkin patch.
I told him sure, as long as Daddy could find us a sugar pumpkin in his garden that was ready to be harvested. Daddy did.
Daniel was full of ideas. When we headed back inside, where dinner was already started, Daniel said, "I really wish we were having someone come over for dinner tonight."
"Like who?" I prodded.
I promptly went to the phone. Daniel had no idea that I had already asked my brother to come to dinner two or three times that day and been turned down because he'd committed to go to the Wednesday night dinner at our church. We were staying home trying to take advantage of the dry weather to finish up the siding on the shed Eric is building. I knew Andy would have a much harder time telling his nephew he had alternate plans. (Yes, I know that's slightly really manipulative.) Daniel was able to convince him to come to dessert, for pumpkin pie.
We cut, cooked, and pureed our pumpkin. Then rolled out the pie crust. I was a little nervous when I read it was going to take an hour and a half to cook. The kids were in bed by the time Uncle Andy, Eric, and I cut into the still warm pumpkin pie. So worth the effort.
So, after breakfast I offered the kids a sliver of pumpkin pie. All three agree enthusiastically. Good thing they were all slivers because after one bite each none of them wanted any more.