Giving Thanks and Eating Dessert
Photo from flickr by srd515. Used under a creative commons license.
I love my church more and more every day. Not to be too much of a churchy Church Lady, but really, it is so much on the good part and so light on the annoying part that I can’t help but be happy about belonging to such a great spiritual community.
Last night we had our Gratitude service. A little singing, a little prayer, and then the main portion of the show – all of those who wished came up front to some microphones and said what they were grateful for.
It was sweet and charming and touching and, when the kids came up, funny (“Everything” said one boy before scampering off stage, giggling, to join his two brothers in the back row).
A man who had just gotten married said he would give a food box to the school up the street for everyone who stood and gave thanks, so we gave away 22 boxes of food.
Then, of course, it was time to eat! Dessert potluck. I picked pecan pie and did myself in. One small piece and I was unable to consider anything else.
I was standing there talking to a guy as he ate. He took samples of about 6 desserts – brownies, lime cake, pumpkin pie, something puddingy, a lemon bar…no problem. Guy likes his dessert. I’m a kindred spirit.
But then…what he did was so stunning that I can barely consider it. He took his fork, and working carefully and rapidly, mashed all the desserts together in a uniform paste, kind of a dessert version of soda fountain Suicide.
It wasn’t like this was his first time. It was like this was what he had been waiting and wanting to do. He made this chunky brown paste and then happily shoveled it in, all chocolatey and limey and lemony and puddingy at once.
I could barely keep myself from twitching. It just seemed so unnecessarily violent, in a dessert-killing kind of way.
Have you ever seen anything like this? I’m still shaking my head.
I gave thanks for all of you last night, because I’m so happy to have this corner of the internet and this crazy online community. Happy Thankgiving.
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Suebob's Red Stapler 
Gag. No…. no I haven’t. And I hope that I never do!
As someone who prides herself on her cooking – and especially her dessert – it makes me want to scream WHY? WHY?
That’s so gross! It’s so wrong and wrong and wrong and gross.
But I am still sad I did not have pie of any sort today. We blew our Thanksgiving load in October, eh!
I probably shouldn’t have said “blew our load” on your church post. Sorry.
LOL you should meet my pastor. She is always making really dirty innuendoes and cracking herself up so bad she can’t keep talking. (She’s also very profound and deep – kind of a wacky combo).
Well, I have to mash all of Jumby’s food into a disgusting paste because he simply doesn’t have the muscle strength to chew it and swallow. So paste it is. Looks disgusting but he can at least choke it back. Perhaps this man has the same sort of issues?
I think he’s a perfectly able to chew person. (He took a couple bites before he started the mulching process). But nice try!
Oy! Brownie and pudding okay. Lemon and lime okay. But tossing the whole kit and caboodle into a giant smoosh would turn me off just watching it. That is no way to treat a pumpkin pie.
It WAS pretty foul. I should have asked him about it, because I will forever wonder.
Ugh, I can’t even stand the thought of swamp water (or whatever you call the pop version, yes I’m too lazy to scroll up). I may have retched right there…and then added, ‘here, have some of mine too.’
Gag.
I love to cook and bake and I pick ingredients and recipes SO carefully…obsessing over whether to use Ceylon or Vietnamese cinnamon, for instance. And then this happens. It shakes my faith in humanity.
That is grotesque! Unless it was performance art? It’s wonderful that you and your church help so much.
I imagine it is performance art along the lines of Puppetry of the Penis – disgusting but you can’t stop looking.
O M G. he did not.
i obsess over my desserts for hours and they are PERFECT when they leave the house (unless i’m tired, drunk or running late, then all bets are off). seeing someone do that to my dessert – especially if anything else mashed was store bought – might induce me to violence.
well, he’s in your church, right? so you’ll get another chance to interrogate him?