Saturday, February 9, 2013

There's no place like home.

It's true.

And I'm not just saying that because my family is the only group of people I know who can match me, calorie for calorie.

The conversation's good, too.

Oh, and we laugh a lot.

(Though a good part of the laughing could be contributed to a sugar high.)

I rolled into town yesterday afternoon at about 5:00. I wasn't hungry. At all. I'd had a meatball sub from Capriotti's for lunch. (This is not a paid advertisement, but I'm here to tell you... if you like meatball subs, get yourself to a Capriotti's. Forthwith.) And then I'm stopped to get gas on my way home and picked up some roadtrip treats at the gas station. (Don't worry, I did not buy candy. That is pretty much my one rule I haven't broken yet, and I'm determined to make it to March 1. ... But I did buy a giant ice cream sandwich and a bag of jalapeno potato chips. Both of which I gobbled right up.)

So, as you can see... I had eaten a lot yesterday afternoon. I was not one whit hungry. But at soon as I walked into my mom's kitchen, I popped the lid on a tupperware and helped myself to a fiberlicious muffin. And ten minutes later, Dad was home from work, hungry (because he'd skipped lunch). And... we were off to Trapper's.

Bacon cheeseburgers on the char grill all around. (Except Dad, who went with his standard BBQ sandwich, which is also delicious, but not legendary the way a Trapper's burger is.) Kate ordered fries, but they were too crunchy for her, so I ate them. (I swear, they were double fried. They were crunchy and salty and fantastic!)

Remember... I wasn't hungry when I started eating this. (Neither was Mom. She'd had four fiberlicious muffins, and I'm here to tell you... they're filling.)

And then Cindy came back and asked if we wanted pie. Heck yes, we did!

They have a new flavor: Peanut Butter Pie.

Of course, we were curious, but not sure if we could commit to a solid PB pie. So Mom ordered a piece of chocolate pie to go with it.

I got my standard apricot a la mode, as did Dad. Katie couldn't decide between apricot and lemon cream. It was quite the dilemma.

When Cindy brought our platter of pie out (yeah... a table of four and we merited her bringing our pie out on a platter) we laughed out loud. There they were: 3 apricot a la mode, 1 chocolate, 1 pb and a to-go container with lemon cream, because Cindy thought Katie probably "needed" it.

Did that lemon cream go home with us? No. No, it did not. Dad was a good boy and ate his own piece of pie. I ate mine, but then helped Mom finish off the pb/choc pies.  Kate and Dad both tasted the pb, but weren't sold on it like Mom and I were. Katie ate her apricot pie, but then couldn't stay out of the lemon, so I joined in to help a sister out. (I'm such a giver.)

About 20 minutes in, we started laughing like hyenas. Maybe it was the sugar. Maybe it was the realization that three women eating five pieces of pie (after eating full dinner) was pretty ludicrous.

Joyce Brimhall came to our table to see what all the laughing was about, and had to be drug away by her husband. Brenda Crook caught us on our way out and told us she wanted to know why we were having so much fun at our table. She said all the laughing was contagious, and she was starting to get giggly herself.

People, we are a good time. Copious amounts of sugar delivered in pie-sliced pieces of heaven only helps.

There's no place like home. There is no one like these people. I love it here. I love them.

And, now, if you'll excuse me, Dad's making his famous stone ground whole wheat pancakes with pecans and blueberries for breakfast. I need to go eat myself sick again...