I'll Never Live It Down

There are pictures below, but, because this blog is authored by me, there is a long story that comes beforehand. This story is about cobbler.

Our church was putting together a Fall Festival. Food, fun, and trunk-or-treating. There were sign ups going around each Sunday asking for volunteers to make chili or apple cobbler for the fall festival. I never actually saw theses sign ups. But Aaron did. About a week ago Aaron casually mentioned that he had signed us up to make apple cobbler. Due to his extremely busy schedule, when he signs "us" up he normally just signs "me" up for things. This wasn't the first time he had done this. He has good intentions at heart, but I was slightly annoyed. Fast forward to Friday where he reminds me about making the cobbler and that we need to buy the proper ingredients. I am a little more annoyed. I had forgotten. Please don't get me wrong, I am open to the notion of serving others but I'd like to give my consent first.

Saturday morning I buy the ingredients we needed, which was literally a bag of apples. When cobbler making time rolled around I wash my hands and before I start, I walk out of the kitchen and say, "Aaron, I really don't like when you sign me up to do things without my consent. Next time talk to me before you sign me up for something." His response, "Well I knew they needed cobbler and really didn't think it would be a big deal." Me, "It's not a big deal, but in the future, let me know beforehand."

In my lifetime I have only made cobbler once before, and I no longer have that recipe. So, I typed "easy apple cobbler" into google. If I was going to do this, I was going to take the easiest route possible. How is that for grabbing life by the horns, eh? I began the tedious task of peeling the apples. Easy recipe in hand. In the middle of this process it was brought to my attention that the cobbler wasn't merely going to be a dessert, it would be a contestant in the cobbler competition. Oh great. There would be blue ribbon, world class cobblers there and then my half hearted, mediocre cobbler sitting untouched in a corner. I put a little more effort into it, hoping it wouldn't fall completely short. I popped it in the oven, set the timer, and got in the shower. Once I was out I checked the clock and realized that I put the cobbler in too early and it would probably be cold by the time the Fall Festival rolled around. I could feel the epic failure seeping in, but thought to myself, "At least I did it." 

We got Grace dressed up, and we headed to the church. Our cobbler was placed on the table and given the number 5 for the competition. As Aaron and I did our best to attempt to corral Grace, and after we ate our chili, I headed out to grab dessert. There was pumpkin pie that was literally being attacked on all fronts by hungry pie-loving church goers, I was under strict orders to get a piece of that pumpkin pie. By the time I blinked, it was gone. I scooped up some of our apple cobbler, and some berry cobbler and headed back to our table. I told Aaron the pie was gone and gave him strict orders to eat our cobbler and let me know how it tasted. I don't actually like cobbler and really didn't want to eat it. Grace was off to play games, with me in tow, before his verdict on the cobbler was in.

The night progressed and as the donut-eating competition was being set-up (our fall festival is crazy legit), the winners of the costume, chili, and cobbler contests were announced. Runners up were given wonderful rounds of applause, the costume winners walked a little cat-walk, and different kinds of chili winners were pointed out. Winners received a gift card to a frozen yogurt joint that is literally across the street from our apartment. Then there was cobbler. Best berry.....Best peach...And now apple. "There weren't names associated with the cobblers so we'll announce the number. Cobbler #5 is our winner!" I about fell over. My cobbler, my easy, half hearted, cold when arrived, cobbler? The one I didn't want to make but felt cornered into doing so? I accepted the gift certificate and Aaron turns to the announcer and says, "You know whats funny? She didn't even want to make it!"And it was in that moment that I realized, I will never live this down. 

I am more than aware that the clout that comes from winning a small ward cobbler contest is nothing to write home about, but I learned a seriously valuable lesson. I could have had fun with it. I could have enjoyed the process. But instead I was grumpy and fought it and was angry and annoyed. After winning with a cobbler, which I still have yet to taste, I wish that I would have enjoyed the process a little more. And y'all better watch out, cobbler #5 is coming to play next year. Bring it.

We wrapped up our night with a little trunk-or-treat. This being Grace's second one of the year. A lot more people joined us for the end of the night trunk or treat.

With her Ladybug costume in place, Grace was up for the challenge.

Since she is a veteran at this going trunk to trunk thing, she knew what she was getting: candy. We had her repeat "Trick or treat!" as she walked up to the cars, and with prodding she slipped a few "Thank-yous" in there. But after I while she would just walk up and say "I want some candy," and dig her hand into the bowl. At least we tried.

And finally we got a current family picture. One day Grace will keep her eyes open, but last night wasn't that day.

And yes, the signature red jacket is back. You know you love it.