Thanksgiving is Pat’s favorite time of the year. I think first, he’s a great cook, and likes to show off. And he likes to eat…and he LOVES pumpkin pie. About ten years ago, he just kept going on and on about how he couldn’t wait to make his pumpkin pies. I really didn’t give a shit, because I detest pumpkin pie.

Pat does NOTHING from a can or a mix. Everything is from scratch. So, he made several pumpkin pies one Saturday, taking hours to do whatever one does to make one from scratch, like an Amish weirdo.

He finished the pies, and kept talking about the damned pies like he found a cure for cancer while making them, and these pies were going to save mankind. He put them on the top of the stove to cool, while we went to run a quick errand.

We started off, and Pat forgot something and had to run home quickly. I sat in the car, waiting for him to grab whatever and come back out. He came running out to the car, yelling like a maniac, with his face bright red and veins popping out of his forehead.

“YOU WILL NEVER GUESS WHAT THAT FUCKING WHORE DID THIS TIME!!!!” he yelled.

Oh my God…the only thing that went thru my mind is “What did his ex do this time?!?!?!”–assuming said “fucking whore” was his ex. Before anyone gets bent out of shape about that…yes, we talked like that, no, not in front of Andy, and yes, she was a fucking whore and I stand by that. Hell, after all the crap she did, honestly, it evolved from “whore” to “cunt”…and I stand by that. You can think that’s horrible. I can write a dissertation why it’s legit and an earned title, but I digress.

“WHAT?????”, I yelled back.

“SHE ATE ALL MY FUCKING PUMPKIN PIES! Right off the back of the stove when they were cooling! She even turned the pie tins inside out to get every last fucking crumb! THAT FUCKING WHOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!!!”

Um, I knew that said ex was not in our house, gorging on three pumpkin pies.

At this point, I started laughing hysterically. That “fucking whore” was my prima donna princess dog, Ava.

For the record, Pat got ingredients for three more pies, RE-MADE THEM that night…insisted on putting them on the back of the stove AGAIN…I told him not to…he said it’s his God-damned house and the dog needs to realize that.

Um, Pat, it’s AVA. Ava doesn’t give a shit. Ava gave less shits than a honey badger gave….

It goes without saying that Pat came home from church the next day to ZERO FUCKING PIES.