Thanksgiving 1984

By: Annie Griffiths

There are so many funny stories about your Dad, but my favorite was when your folks were first married and I was out visiting for Thanksgiving. I volunteered to make my Mom’s wonderful apple pie, which she always baked in a paper bag.

So I did a bang up job of preparing the pie, put it in the paper bag and slid it into the oven. About ten minutes later, we smelled smoke and opened the oven door to a raging fire.

Being the resourceful girls that we are, your Mom and I beat out the flames, vacuumed the cinders, and put it back in the over in a fresh bag. Voila! Ten minutes later, a second fire.

So I get my Mom on the phone while Linda is vacuuming the pie for the second time, and find out that the bag only works in a gas stove. The electric coils caused the fires.

Needless to say, Ray has been providing a running commentary throughout the entire debacle. As I am figuring things out on the phone with my Irish Catholic, Midwestern, suburban, Republican girl scout of a mother, Ray suddenly grabs the phone and says:

“Well, Mary, I hope she’s good in bed, cause she sure can’t cook!” God, I love your Dad!