The entire week BEFORE Thanksgiving was a busy, busy, frustrating week for many reasons. We were swamped with activities for the three weekends prior to Thanksgiving, and Thad had a Cub Scout campout coming up. Everyone except Victoria took Friday off (perfect attendance for the year. . .it’s in the air!!!), so that Thursday was a busy day at school. Then I stayed until 7:00 to get ready for my sub for Friday, and I had to get camping groceries and Thanksgiving groceries on the way home because we had to go BACK to school on Monday and Tuesday, and I was going to be in the woods camping out all that weekend. Needless to say, when I arrived at my door at 9:15 on the Thursday night one week prior to Thanksgiving, I was none too happy and none too energetic.

I staggered into the house, hugged everyone, gave directions to go unload the car, then collapsed on the game room couch.

Through my exhausted haze, I heard the kids ferrying bags into the kitchen and finally unloading them and putting things away. Thad was taking out, and Victoria was putting up. At one point Thad had evidently noticed a trend in what I’d bought. Unbeknownst to him, I was making not one but TWO cheesecakes for Thanksgiving. Once he realized the sheer magnitude of a particular type of grocery item, I heard him exclaim in a mixture of shock and disgust,

“This is a RIDICULOUS amount of DAIRY PRODUCT.”

And he was correct. It was, indeed, a ridiculous amount of dairy product.

I might as well have bought an entire cow. And that ceramic cow DOES live there. Her name is Pearl--after my very own red angus heifer born on Pearl Harbor Day a LONG time ago.

It was, however, put to good use.

After sniffing them both, Thad decided the one on the left (chocolate cheesecake with Oreo crust) smelled "friendlier" than the one on the right (pumpkin cheesecake with gingersnap crust.)

After trying his first bite of the “Friendly” cheesecake, he declared that he needed milk. Which is why I had to buy TWO MORE GALLONS of milk on my way home from my test. Egads.


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