If You Really Loved Me, You Would Give Me Pumpkin Pie

Traditionally, pumpkin pie is a Thanksgiving treat for me. I go all year, practically detesting sweets (except ice cream - I love you, Ben & Jerry's!), until I see that creamy orange-y goodness on a crust. Then there's no holding me back.

For example, my Thanksgiving of Michelle involved a week of pumpkin pie for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was GLORIOUS.

So that brings me to this afternoon. My building - er, the building I work in - is hosting a Halloween party in the lobby. Apparently they do this kind of thing all year - popcorn Friday on the last Friday of the month, hot dog and lemonade parties over the summer, etc. (No one checks you in at the door by the way - it's the Homer Building, right above the Metro Center stop on the 13th Street exit, and I'll be seeing you on Fridays.)

Anyway, there's a pumpkin carving contest and, more importantly, pie and hot apple cider (another joy of the Autumn season!). I want you to know that I stepped out to get my sister's birthday present and returned to a lovely, pumpkin-y, god-bless-you-all-because-I-feel-ecstatic treat. These last five minutes have been heaven.

And if you ever want to get on my good side during the months of October and November, when there is just the right twinge of nippy in the air, you know the drill. And I expect whipped cream with that.

p.s. I ABHOR Cool Whip.