Evidence of the roll

I was assigned sweet potatoes and dessert for Thanksgiving at my sister's house this year. Because I don't 'do' desserts (no, not dieting... I just don't 'do' desserts... ), I questioned if pie was a must, and thankfully, according to my sister, it is not.

Okay, so I decided to make a pear crisp (with ice cream topping), a pumpkin roll, and brownies for the kids.

Since the pumpkin roll involves... well, rolling... I thought I should make it last night just in case I needed to go purchase a pumpkin roll, already rolled, from the grocery store.

I made it. I rolled it. I cut off the ends to make them 'clean' and even. And, I popped it in the freezer to pull back out on Thanksgiving morning.

Ian got the ends for a little snack. HE LOVED IT... like REALLY loved it... with eating sounds (Mmmmm... Mmmmm... ) and everything! No one has ever made those sounds as a result of my baking. Ever.

But then, last night, I lay in bed thinking about what the roll looked like. Not cakey like I am used to seeing, and I put too much cream cheese in it, so some filling was squooshing out the seams. It was an obsessive-compulsive nightmare.

And then, I thought about it all day at work. It may taste good, but the roll was not as pretty as it should be.

Screw it.

On the way home from work today, I stopped at the grocery and picked up a pretty, uniform pumpkin roll.

As soon as I got home, I yanked the homemade pumpkin roll from the freezer, knowing there was at least ONE person who would appreciate its goodness.

And so, here we have it. Evidence of the roll.