It's a pie party, people!

"Guess what?" Beverley said when I walked in.

"What?" I asked, immediately excited. I always like anything scandalous. I hoped it was something scandalous.

"It's National Pie Day!" she cried. "We should get some pie!"

"Hooray!" I cheered. I love pie. It's much better than a scandal.

So we planned to go have some pie. Then Libby came in.

"It's National Pie day!" we cried happily. Libby gasped and stuck out her tongue. I watched her carefully. Libby's tongue is a barometer of fun.

"We should have a pie party!" Libby gasped. "With ice cream and whipped cream! We can have apple pie and pecan pie..."

"And chocolate pie," Beverly added.

"And coconut creme pie!" I cried, drooling. "We must have a pie party!" An e-mail invitation later, Beverly was off to pick up the pies and I was off to pick up the ice cream. By 10:30 a.m., we were buzzing with excitement.

At 1 p.m., we carefully laid the pies out on the table. The apple pie stared up at us with it's golden flaky buttery crust. I struggled to withhold my drool as I cut the pie. Beverly eyeballed the chocolate creme pie.

"Isn't it beautiful?" I cooed, my eyes brimming with tears as I stared down at the apple pie. "Is it not delightful?"

"It is," Libby said hungrily, eyeballing the ice cream. "It looks soo good."

The glorious set-up lastly approximately 30 seconds before we all dove in. Thirty minutes later, we were stuffed with pie, ice cream and licking whipped cream off our lips.

"This was a great pie day," Beverley said, looking in a daze at the table.

"It was," I said, sneaking a few bites of pecan pie. "It was a good pie day."