The Peach Pie

I am sort-of a spur-of-the-moment gal.  At church yesterday I decided to invite a newer family in our ward over for dessert.  I invited them, they accepted.  Done.  I love having people over.  It is one of my favorite things.  We had a fairly average Sunday.  Except for Ellie having a blow-out during Sacrament meeting that ended up all over my white shirt, it was a typical day.  Right after church, we straightened up quickly since Matt was having a Scout meeting at our house.  Then he went to visit some new YM in our ward.  All the while, I began to prepare dessert.  I had my heart set on making pumpkin pie.  I went into my pantry and the can of pumpkin had disappeared.  I am positive there was one in there on Saturday.  Okay, not positive, but pretty sure.  Whatever.  I found a razzleberry pie in my freezer and popped that in the oven.  I also made a key lime pie and a peach pie.  I used peaches from our tree that I had frozen.  It looked awesome.  I had about at half an hour before our guests arrived, we had just finished dinner and I sat down to feed Ellie.  I finished and had 20 minutes left.  I started loading the dishwasher.  Five minutes later I was corralling all the bowls I had dirtied making pies into the dishwater and mentally checking off what I still needed to do.  Wash the table, pick up the stray books in the family room, sweep, put away the leftovers, whip the cream.  Totally do-able in 15 minutes.

Right then the doorbell rang.  They were 15 minutes early.  Matt gave me a "what do you want me to do?" look and I just shrugged and tried to frantically push all the remaining dishes in the sink while throwing him a rag and asking him to clean the table.  As the family walked into our kitchen, it was still as disaster, they apologized for being early and I started laughing (slightly embarrassed laughter, to be sure.) and told them since they were early, they got to see the real deal.  "Sorensens Uncensored"  if you will.  Just then the timer on my oven went off and I turned to get the peach pie out of the oven.  I was still a little flustered, I'll admit.  I was trying to pick up the pie so at to not ruin the crust when almost in slow motion, that pie slipped out of my oven-mitted fingers and crashed to the bottom of the oven.  Shocked silence filled the house.  I started to laugh.  Peach pie was all over the inside of my oven.  Serves me right for being more worried about having a clean house, than being a good hostess.  (and for being a procrastinator.)

Luckily, our guests had also brought some sweets to fill in the blanks.  I would say I recovered nicely and chatted amiably with my guests as Matt and I scraped peach pie out of the oven.  Needless to say, I am cleaning my oven this morning.  :)

We had a great time with our guests, they are a really fun family and their older kids wore my kids out just in time for bed.  Much appreciated.

I laugh every time I picture myself dropping that pie.

Here is the aftermath:

 The top half of the pie fell into the over before I steadied myself.

 The aftermath after Matt and I scraped it out.

All the icky parts we scraped out of the oven.  Oh, good times.  I am such a spaz.  But, hey on the bright side, these new friends now saw the real us.  The good, the bad and the ugly.  And the pie.  :)