Monday, October 13th, was a big day in our family.  Not only was it Navy Day, Columbus Day, and Paul Simon’s birthday (sha na na na, sha na na na nah), but it was Peanut Butter PIe Day.  Why Peanut Butter Pie day?  Because my hubby likes peanut butter.  And chocolate.  And pie.  And he has spun around the sun 30 times:  woot!  What’s the best remedy for dizziness?  My Nana’s peanut butter pie, as made by one peanut butter pie maker extraordinaire:

Normally when one eats peanut butter pie, one does not make such a face.  But when one looks over and sees another doing this because he knows his picture is being taken and can’t seem to shut that dainty piehole of his:

one makes this disgruntled face.  Because the *appropriate* face to make when eating peanut butter pie is this face:

Which one has learned over his many many spins around the earth (but it would be rude to share what monthly edition he would be entering, plus I can’t add that high this late at night, especially as I’m trying to drown out the presidental debate/town hall/snl fodder in the background).

This is also a good and appropriate response:

Note the look in his eye:  seriously?  Is this legal?  You, mama of the no-sugar-added, are letting me sit next to you and eat chocolate cookie crust with cream cheese and cool whip and sugar and peanut butter filling with shaved ghiradelli chocolate on top?  I wonder how long it will take until I wear you down with my request for guns, lots of guns . . .

Even better yet, the one whow is least dizzy from twirling around the mass of incandescent gas, A gigantic nuclear furnace, Where hydrogen is built into helium, At a temperature of millions of degrees (name that tune:  anybody?  anybody?  Bueller?) responded best at what to do when eating peanut butter pie.

Observe Object.

Don’t Look In Case It Hurts But Open Wide In Case It’s Good.

Safeguard:  Because This Has Sugar And They Might Realize Their Mistake At Any Minute

Remove Briefly To Allow For Breathing

Act Cool As The Wonderfulness Begins to Sink In

Be Thorough

Be Responsible:  Leave No Trace

Even though a smaller tyke did steal the show, the Birthday Boy was bestowed with happiness and yumminess, despite the face (which is not in reaction to the pie but in reaction to his sainted wife who had to document the occassion lest one moment of their lives in not available for blog fodder).

Thanks for spinning with me, Hubby.  Happy belated birthday.

~Wifey

Wifely Weighings