I meant to post this back in December.
Did I ever mention the time Dad lopped off the top of his finger?
We went to see Grandma and Grandpa one Christmas to find Grandpa sitting in his chair with his finger all bandaged and him popping pain killers. Grandpa had cut off the tip of his finger baking pies the day before. Pie baking was grandpa’s thing. He made the pies for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Grandpa’s pies were out of this world. He took pie baking to a whole new level. A true art form. He’d make Apple and Squash (not pumpkin damn it, it has to be SQUASH) and Blueberry and Pineapple. He’d also make an assortment of meat pies. He really enjoyed the pie baking, it was his special treat to the family for the holidays.
He’d start a couple of days before the Holiday (Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter etc.) and just have at it. He ran the kitchen with military precision. No mess for Grandpa, things was washed as they were used, counters were perpetually being wiped clean, even the floor was carefully attended. The kitchen was spotless before, after and during pie time. You could always tell pie time was nearing. You could tell because Grandpa would start complaining about his tools. The biggest complaint was the knives. Grandpa was unhappy because he could never find a sharp knife. Grandpa complained that you couldn’t cut butter with most of Grandma’s knives.
Well this particular year, my brother decided to do my mother a favor and keep my father from complaining. He decided he would sharpen mom's knives. He went to the house a day or two before Pie Time and sharpened every knife he could find. The knives were sharp enough to shave with when he was done. The next day, Grandpa was getting ready to make the pies. He laid out all his supplies. He got the pie plates, the spices, the apples, the squash, the flour, the sugar and anything else that he needed. He was good to go. When all was ready, it was time to start baking. The first thing Dad grabbed was a bag of sugar. The second thing he grabbed was a knife to use in opening said bag of sugar. The next thing he grabbed was his finger. Seems before the first ingredient had been measured, Grandpa had cut the tip off of his finger.
As people came into the house Christmas day, they would hear the story. They’d walk into the family room, and there was Grandpa sitting in his chair with his finger bandaged and elevated. And Grandpa would announce that he was not able to make the pies this year because of his horrific injury. He had no problem relating his horrific tale of injury and how Grandma had to finish making all the pies (under his tutelage of course). Eventually, someone talked him into putting a festive bow on his bandaged finger. So there he was, sitting in the Kings Seat a bulbous bandage incasing his finger, wrapped in a bright red bow telling tales of the ER.
After a while, the brother that had sharpened the knives came over. As he came into the house, he was singing a little song. By the end of the day, everyone was singing. It went something like this (to the tune of Grandma got run over by a reindeer)
Grandpa cut the top off of his finger
Mak’n pies at his house Christmas Eve
Some folks say the grandma’s got no sharp knives
Just go and talk to Grandpa now he believes
Grandpa was measuring out ingredients,
One was causing him much strife
He couldn’t open up the sugar
That’s when he grabbed himself the knife
Ohhhh,
Grandpa cut the tip off of his finger
Mak’n pies at his house Christmas Eve
Some Folks say that Grandma’s got no sharp knives,
Just go and talk to Grandpa he believes
And so on. There’s a verse about grandma’s dull knives, there’s a verse about his trip to the ER, there’s even a verse about the lesson he learned
Grandpa sat there and smiled the whole day. He kept saying his finger throbbed, but he kept smiling. He even seemed to enjoy the song. Maybe it was all the love and attention he was getting. Then again, it might have been the pain killers.
We always knew Grandpa liked to throw himself into his holiday pie baking. The question that year was who was going to find it?
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