Sunday, November 30, 2003

MPF
In my defense, it was early, and the diet Coke had not yet kicked in. We were eating breakfast at our usual haunt and GramTuna was already in a full out menu planning mode for our Saturday Thanksgiving. I had employed the "Uh huhhh" defense during this conversation -- mindless, but effective when used properly. List-type conversations work well with a twelve second rotation. This allows enough time for each item to be listed, followed by a moment of thoughtful introspection before you reply "Uh huhhhhh". You see, cohesive thoughts had not yet formed in my gray matter and I just wasn't awake.

Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes...
Uh huhhh......
Sweet potatoes, brussel sprouts, corn...
Uh huhhh.....
Soup, rolls....
Uh Huhhhh.....
Mince Pie....

MPF

And there it was. My knee jerk genetically programmed can't-help-it response to Mince Pie. I made the dreaded Mince Pie Face (MPF). Why? Because Me.No.Likeee. Mince Pie is gross. Mince pie is nasss-ty. Mince pie is yuck. And even though my brain wasn't awake, my face sure was. And at the name of "mince pie" I made the face of one who does not prefer Mince Pie. And whoooo boy, did I get in trouble! Well, not really in trouble, but a lively discussion followed about the merits of mince pie. No! It was not a discussion. It was a lecture. And I wasn't buying it.

MPF became the acronym and activity du jour. It was quickly applied to every Thanksgiving dish in the upcoming menu, which predictably, led to the great gelatin salad debate: cranberry salad with orange peels, twigs and acorns (big MPF in my book) vs. green gelatin with pears and cream cheese (big MPF in SisterTuna's world). GramTuna attempted to stop the madness, but it was too late. We sped past the holiday menu and proceeded to hurl food suggestions that we knew would trigger a MPF. GramTuna finally gave up. We cracked up. In our house, this is known as a Thanksgiving family bonding type moment.

In the end, of course, dinner was marvelous. I didn't have to view the offending pie, and she kept her mitts off my yummy salad. TinyTuna, of course, was commanded to eat one brussel sprout, which she did with much sighing and gulping of milk. Surprisingly, she didn't make a MPF.

She'll learn.
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