It was one of those days. I had been working on my novel revisions for probably 12 hours straight on a Saturday with the only scheduled break being dinner with out of town friends. It wasn’t until we were on the way to the restaurant that I realized how hungry I was. But what I really wanted was…pumpkin pie.

A strange craving, yes. Then again, it is the start of Fall, and over here, it’s already cold with changing leaves. And as a result, the idea of that seasonal pumpkin pie clung to my thoughts in a way I couldn’t shake.

We had a nice long dinner with our friends, and at the end, Hubs was like, “Didn’t you say you wanted pumpkin pie? There’s a store right there! Let’s get you some. You’ve earned it.”

So we entered…not realizing it would lead to the most ridiculously doomed night of all time.

Hubs rushed in, picked up a pie and took it to self check out– only to realize it was really a sweet potato pie. Yeah…no. NOT the same thing. So I rushed back as he waited by the register only to find out that under the pumpkin pie sign was nothing but a pile of lies— a big stack of sweet potato impostor lies.

So I ran to inform him of this travesty but assured him that I’d just grab a frozen one instead. Easy solution…right?

WRONG.

There I stood, like a hopeful fool in the freezer section, staring at a pumpkin pie-less zone. They even had blackberry pie. WHO EATS BLACKBERRY PIE IN THE FALL? WHAT HAS THIS WORLD COME TO?

So in one last fit in defiant rage, I figured I should just bake one. Hubs had suggested that right before we decided to slip into the store for our “quick” errand. So I grabbed some frozen pie crusts and ran to the baking aisle but alas…

THERE WASN’T EVEN CANS OF PUMPKIN PUREE OR PUMPKIN PIE FILLING?!?!?!?!

Had all the pumpkins in town been raptured? Was this literally a pumpkin-pocolypse and there wasn’t any pumpkin left in the world? Maybe it wasn’t October, but really a chilly June and we jumped the gun? Not, it was definitely October. Were we even in a store? Or was this some kind of demented nightmare maze of grocery nonsense?

I think we both know the answer to that one.

“No worries,” I think to myself. “I do have some cans of pumpkin stowed away in my pantry. I’ll just buy eggs.” So I RUN to the egg aisle while googling a pumpkin pie recipe on my phone…nearly getting mowed over by a stock boy pushing a gigantic rolly cart of boxes…

Did I mention it was 11 p.m. at this point?

And by the time I get to the egg aisle– don’t worry. There were eggs. But the recipe finally popped up on my phone revealing I had every ingredient except evaporated milk.

BACK TO THE BAKING AISLE!

Are you exhausted with this annoying story yet? Because I surely was.

By the time I make it back to the Hubs at self check out, he is shouting in his usual quiet way, “WHAT?! WHAT HAPPENED! I THOUGHT YOU DIED OR RAN OFF WITH THE PUMPKIN PIE TO HAVE IT ALL FOR YOURSELF.”

“No, honey. My soul just died a little. There is literally no pumpkins in the store– AT ALL. RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!”

And our $5 pie quick errand turned into like a $20, 30 minute one.

Oh, but it gets worse. We get in the car, exhausted, and I glanced down at my phone. I still remember the horrifying words that flashed across the dull glow of my iPhone screen. It said: Total Prep/Cooking Time: 1.5 hours.

So long story still long– we swung by Food Lion on the way home and found a $4 pumpkin pie, bought whipped cream and ate pie the way pie was intended to be eaten– PRE-FREAKING-MADE.

And boy was it tasty. But as you can tell by the picture below…it may take the Hubs a little more time to recover from this traumatic experience.