Last night I made the banana cream pies for Thanksgiving dinner. My husband was out, and my son was downstairs watching The Sandlot. All was going well with the pie making until I started the whipped cream topping. I thought - hey I’ll improvise by adding some Dream-Whip (I wanted it to taste like vanilla mousse) to the mixture, but it was not getting stiff. In fact, the more I beat it with the electric hand mixer, the soupier it became. Sweaty and frustrated, I shoved the bowl into the fridge, and started whipping up a new batch. It was all good until I realized I’d left the fridge open.

     I stupidly propped the mixer up by shoving the toaster under it while I shut the fridge door. I turned around in time to see the bowl tip on its side. NO! Sticky, drippy cream coated the front of the dishwasher and pooled onto the floor below. The mixer landed in the mess and spun crazily throwing cream on me until I frantically shut it off. It was all over my pants, boots, and somehow got into my hair! I righted the bowl, and managed to save about a cup of the cream. Then I looked around and started to laugh. Gigi, our kitten, had come over to see what all the noise was about only to find that Thanksgiving had arrived early! She lapped at the cream —purring as loud as a kitten can, while I mopped up the rest with a towel. 

        I should have taken a picture of the kitchen. It was an epic mess. I did however take a picture of the kitten:

Life is good!