Every Thanksgiving all the relatives showed up at our house: Grandpa Fuller, Grandma Bunny and Harmel, Gramps (with his stinky cigar), Uncle Earl and Jo, sometimes even Uncle Everett. And we’d have to get kind of dressed up and be on our best behavior.

But the adults didn’t always behave so well. One time, right before Thanksgiving dinner was served, Uncle Earl motioned for my brother Dan to come over and see something by the table. Dan came over and Uncle Earl pointed to a big slice of pumpkin pie that had a three-inch layer of whipped cream on top. He said to Dan, “Feel how hot this pie is,” and he passed his hand over the top of it several times.

Curious, Dan extended his hand over the top of the pie. And suddenly Uncle Earl’s hand swooped and splatted Dan’s hand into the pie. “Moosh!!” he yelled, and he laughed. Dan looked at his slop-covered hand in disbelief while others joined in and laughed at him. “Jeez Dan, if you wanted pie you could have just cut a piece,” said Uncle Everett.

Dan was fuming and didn’t know whether to cry or throw the pie at Uncle Earl. But to his credit, he hatched a plan.

He passed his other hand over the smushed remains of the pie and said, “Hey, the pie is cold now. Feel this, Uncle Earl.”

Uncle Earl appeared to fall for it. He said “Huh…??” and passed his hand over the top, testing the temperature.

And then Dan struck, attempting to smash Uncle Earl’s hand into the pie. But as Dan was swinging downward, Uncle Earl quickly pulled his hand away, so that Dan’s hand buried itself into the gooey mess.

Uncle Earl laughed so hard he had tears coming down his cheeks. Dan was so mad he started crying. Can’t say I blame either of them.