Eighteen years ago, I met my Prince Charming. We’ve certainly had our share of bumps along our road, but I wouldn’t trade him in on a goldfish.
Eighteen years ago, in 1998, the majority of my college freshmen were born. You heard that right. My students were born in 1998. They are adorable. I am always a little dismayed when I ask questions about students’ first historical memory. It’s no longer history… it’s just a news story now.
How is it possible that Prince Charming and I have known each other as long as it takes for a human infant to reach adulthood? How is it possible that “The Miseducation of Lauren Hill” is eighteen years old? So many questions that baffle me.
In two months, I will be the mother of a seven-year old. A few months after that, I will give birth to my third (and final) child. A few days later, Prince Charming will complete another spin around the sun, then I will do the same. A few months after that, Cutie #2 will bring up the rear of annual planetary travel and turn five. This cycle of constant change and evolution is dizzying, and I am eternally grateful for my Chronic Confusion.
A week ago, I roasted a pumpkin, pureed it, prepared it for Thanksgiving Pumpkin Pies. Cutie #2 watched me cook, bake, prepare, and wanted to help. I went to the bedroom for a few minutes, and hell broke loose.
All of a sudden, I smelled smoke, but not really smoke. You know, the smell of hot, somewhere after your Emile Henry Ruffled Pie Dish cooled down on the stove top, but after your industrious four-year old turned the stove on to heat it up again…
Goodbye, Pie Plate. You made it to just shy of our five-year anniversary. You were supposed to last longer than our marriage. You didn’t. You made amazing pies. You will be missed. You were beautiful. You were lovely. You clearly did not appreciate being heated directly on the stove. Prince Charming will enjoy a Costco Pumpkin Pie today (gasp!). I will lose my Minnesota card, yet again.
On this Thanksgiving, and every day, I am grateful for the past eighteen years, and the eighteen years before that, and the four years before that. I am grateful that Prince Charming loves to stay home on Thanksgiving. I am grateful we both love to cook. I am grateful.
4 thoughts on “1998 and Farewell Homemade Pie”
You have such a beautiful way of viewing your life and expressing it pen to paper. It was wonderful to wake up and read this on this Thanksgiving morning. My best to you and yours.
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Thank you, Carolyn! I hope your day was grand!
Mo is a keeper. Best son-in-law ever.
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