A word of advice: Dementia and pie DON'T mix!
Our Thanksgiving dinner was "interesting" to say the least.
Traditionally, we host Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve. My parents cook for Christmas Day and Easter. My Mom has always made the pies for Thanksgiving. This year we KNEW that my mother had failed to the point where pies would be a disaster....we were right.
Z and I TRIED to talk Mom into letting us bake the pies. My Dad has been doing all the cooking for the past couple of years, but Dad has NEVER baked! Dad was all for us baking the pies, but Mom insisted that it would be "No problem".
We knew we were in trouble the minute they walked through our door. Dad started ranting about how the crust "just wouldn't work right", and asked me what pie crust recipe I use. "I've always used Mom's recipe". Then Dad proceeded to make excuses for Mom by stating that a friend had stopped over with a deer heart and liver for their dog. OK, that story explains the burnt pumpkin pie in the top picture...BUT...WTF happened to the banana cream?! There's NO crust, the bananas are on top, and Mom obviously baked this whole mess, as the instant pudding is all cracked and shriveled and the bananas are gummy. Mom and Dad sampled a piece of pumpkin pie before they brought it over. They decided it would be OK to serve. Alrighty then...
Z took a peek at the pies when he put them in the fridge, and wisely opted out of dessert. L never has dessert right after dinner, but this year he foolishly decided to have his pie right away. As Mom was cutting the pumpkin pie, she asked us what kind we wanted. Dad and I said we wanted pumpkin, so Mom goes over and starts cutting the banana cream. "Ummm, Mom...the pumpkin pie is over there." "Oh, is it? OK."
Fortunately my parents don't hang around after dinner. (Long story. I'll explain it to you sometime.) It's a good thing they left because we all burst into laughter the minute they got in their car. Z immediately got his camera and took those pictures so he could email them to SME. We then called SME and Doug and we all laughed 'til our sides hurt. Laughter IS the best medicine! It beats the hell out of crying!
Our dinner conversation revolved around all the people who had died this past year. No matter how hard we tried to change the topic, my Mom kept changing it back to death. Z finally had enough and said: "Um Grandma...this isn't a real great subject for the Thanksgiving table." Mom smilingly agreed, then proceeded to tell us, for the 3rd time, about the phone call they received from a friend when their son died.
We had already discussed trying to talk my parents into letting us have Christmas dinner at our house. Meals have become "iffy" over there. Dad tries to cook, Mom gets in the way and then they start bickering! Portions have become increasingly skimpy and either over or under cooked. My parents expect us to go over there at noon and spend the whole day there. This year my Dad has an unreasonable aversion to putting up their Christmas decorations. Z says he refuses to spend Christmas Day listening to my folks' bickering and watching Grandpa nap, while FoxNews drones in the background, in an undecorated house. L and I agree.
Now we just need to diplomatically convince my parents that they would have a more relaxing Christmas Day at our house....wish us luck.