Punkin Pie

My favorite holiday memory of Wes is pumpkin pie. Anytime I see pumpkin pie, or order a Pumpkin Pie Latte at Starbucks (yum!), I think of Wes at age 5.

A fog of ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg permeated the house all morning as five pumpkin pies sat on the counter fresh from the oven. They were quietly cooling, minding their own business, until one hungry, inquisitive little blonde hair blue eyed boy innocently pulled up a chair, climbed on top of it and stuck a grimy five-year old paw into each pie. Of course he believed that each pie must be tested, each handful carefully licked clean.

These pawprints were artfully centered in the pies (ever since he had painted the walls with his poo as an infant, we'd known he had an artistic flair).

Thankfully his creative mother carefully covered these craters with copious amounts of whip cream to be served at the neighbor's Thanksgiving dinner later in the day.

May all your holidays be as tasty and memorable!