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We didn’t need the pie that year Tania A. Hutchin That Christmas was unique. My mother thought it was a shame the disjointed members of our family didn’t get together more often, so she planned a big gathering. “We’ll have turkey and ham, and all the fixings,” she exalted. “It’ll be perfect!” She scurried off to the kitchen to prepare. All the shirt-tail cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and various relatives of unknown association came. I knew I would be largely ignored if I hid under the dining room table. The tablecloth kept me from view, but I could still see out and periodically snatch a treat without being reprimanded for “ruining my dinner.” I listened closely to the conversations swirling around the room. In one corner Cousin Fred and Uncle Bob argued loudly over a football game. Uncle Bob felt there was something mentally wrong with the referee who had made a particular call. Cousin Fred thought the referee was a “pillar of wisdom.” In another corner, several aunties fussed over whether a baby was too warm or too cold, and the baby’s mother tried to decipher whose advice was best. In the midst of all the hustle, the doorbell rang. Mom whisked by to answer it, her face flush from the heat of the oven and her apron smeared with an assortment of colors. Standing at the door, decked out in a garish purple pantsuit with lime green sparkles was Aunt Eunice. In her hands was a pie. “Well hello, deary, Merry Christmas everyone!” Her high nasal voice pierced through the conversations as she stepped into the house. My mother gasped, and everyone in the room knew why. It was that pie. Not a soul wanted a piece of that atrocity, yet no one was brave enough to refuse the “famous old secret family recipe.” “Well, I see the party’s gotten started without me. Don’t worry, honey, I’ll just stick this old treat out of the way until it’s time for us all to enjoy.” She winked happily at my mother. I had been so engrossed in the drama that I didn’t realize my feet stuck out from the edge of the table. Aunt Eunice took several steps, and I couldn’t stop what I was coming. She tripped over my feet in her haste. The pie hurled through the air, landing on the floor. Our dog hurried over and began to lap its edges. Suddenly, the dog yelped, running from the room. There was a long moment of stunned silence. Everyone turned to Aunt Eunice. How was she going to react? Unexpectedly, her surprised expression crinkled into a laugh and she began giggling. “Well doesn’t that beat all?” There was a collective sigh of relief, and a few even turned in my direction with nods of thanks. We all joined Aunt Eunice in her laughter and discovered the delightful camaraderie of a shared experience. Lodinews Home | News | Sports
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