Thanksgiving Vibe-Coding and the Case for “Single-Serving” Legal Software

Way back in 2023, I thought it was amazing how I could use generative AI to streamline my Thanksgiving prep: I gave it my recipes, and it gave me a schedule. It was a static list—a text document that told me when to put the turkey in, when to swap in the stuffing, and so on.

This year, I started with the same routine. I had six dishes—two stovetop, three oven, one “no-cook” dip—and a family who I’d promised dinner by 3:00 PM. I pasted the recipes into Gemini and asked for a timeline. It handled the “Oven Tetris” flawlessly, giving me a step-by-step game plan, with times and ingredient amounts at each stages.

An image of a cooking schedule titled "Goal: Dinner at 3:00 PM. Oven Strategy: 350°F (Stuffing) → 400°F (Tart) → 500°F (Sprouts)."

The section header is "The Prep Phase (11:00 AM – 12:30 PM)" followed by the text: "Get the messy work out of the way now."

The preparatory steps are listed:

    For the Stuffing:

        Cube 1 lb white bread (if not already done).

        Chop 2 cups celery (5-7 ribs) and 2 cups yellow onion (1 large).

        Chop 31​ cup parsley and 2 tbsp fresh herbs (thyme/rosemary/sage).

        Whisk together 121​ cups chicken broth and 2 large eggs in a measuring cup.

    For the Potatoes:

        Peel 4 lbs Yukon Gold potatoes. Cut into 43​-inch slices. Place in a large pot and cover with water (don’t turn heat on).

But then, I had a realization: I didn’t just want an answer; I wanted a tool. I wanted to be able to check things off as I went. I wanted to see an overview and *also* zoom in on the details.

So, I asked: “What if this was a web app?”

The Shift: From Consumer to Builder

In seconds, Gemini went to work. It gave me a React-based interactive checklist. Suddenly, I wasn’t looking at a static timeline; I was interacting with a piece of software.

But the real magic happened when reality hit. As anyone who has managed a closing checklist or a trial docket knows, the timeline always slips. When my guests told me they’d be an hour late, I realized I’d have to manually calculate the drift for each step.

So, I issued a feature request (this is not a good prompt, but it didn’t matter):

“Add a feature where I adjust what time I’ve finished something so the rest will update”

The AI updated the code. It added a little “reschedule” button, so when I tapped a clock icon next to “Stuffing In,” I could then tap “I Finished This Just Now,” and watch as the entire remaining schedule—the tart, the sprouts, the carrots—automatically shifted forward by an hour. Then I could do it again when I got my stuffing in later than the schedule called for. (If you’d like to check out my app you can do so here: Thanksgiving Checklist).

The result? Despite how tightly-timed my schedule was, dinner was on the table only 15 minutes late. For my household, where “at least an hour late” is the standard for a holiday meal, this was a massive victory.

The Era of “Single-Serving Software”

We often think of legal technology as big, enterprise-grade platforms: the Case Management System, the Deal Room, the Firm Portal. These tools are excellent for standard workflows. But legal work is rarely standard. It lives in the messy, human chaos between the formal deadlines.

My Thanksgiving experiment proves that the barrier to entry for building “Micro-Tools” has collapsed. We are entering the era of Single-Serving Legal Software—bespoke apps built for a single trial, a single deal, or a single crisis, and then discarded when the matter closes.

Here is what that looks like in practice (all ideas from Gemini because I’ve been out of legal practice too long… I’m curious if readers think any have merit):

1. Litigation: The “Witness Wrangler”

Standard case management software handles court deadlines, but it rarely handles the human logistics of a trial.

  • The Problem: You have 15 witnesses. Some need flights, some need prep sessions, some are hostile. Their schedules depend entirely on when the previous witness finishes on the stand.
  • The Single-Serving App: Instead of a static spreadsheet, you spin up a dynamic dashboard shared with the paralegal team.
  • The “Reschedule” Feature: You click “Witness A ran long; pushed to tomorrow morning.” The app automatically text-alerts Witness B to stay at the hotel and updates the car service pickup time.

2. Transactional: The “Non-Standard” Closing

Deal software is amazing for corporate M&A, but terrible for “weird” assets.

  • The Problem: You are selling a massive ranch. The closing checklist includes “Transfer Water Rights,” “Inspect Cattle,” and “Repair Barn Roof.” These aren’t just document signings; they are physical events with dependencies.
  • The Single-Serving App: A logic-based checklist where “Cattle Inspection” is locked until “Barn Roof Repair” is marked Complete. If the roof crew is delayed, the inspection auto-reschedules, alerting all parties.

3. Mass Torts: The “Toxic Plume” Intake

Intake CRMs are generic. Sometimes the “qualification criteria” for a case are chemically or geographically complex.

  • The Problem: You only want to sign clients who lived in a specific, jagged geographic zone between 1995 and 1998.
  • The Single-Serving App: A simple web form where a potential client drops a pin on a map.
  • The Logic: The app performs a “point-in-polygon” check against the specific toxic plume map you uploaded. It instantly tells the intake clerk “Qualified” or “Out of Zone,” saving hours of manual review.

The Accidental Product Roadmap

The beauty of this approach is that it requires zero commitment. I built this app for one dinner. I didn’t worry about making it generalizable. I didn’t build a “Recipe Importer” feature; I just hard-coded the stuffing because it was faster.

But now that I’ve used it, I’m thinking: “Next year, I should ask the AI to create a drag-and-drop interface so I can just paste URLs for any holiday.”

This is exactly how legal innovation should happen. Too often, firms try to buy or build the “Perfect Platform” first. It takes years and costs millions. Single-Serving Software acts as the ultimate Minimum Viable Product (MVP).

  1. Build a specific, hard-coded app for Jones v. Smith.
  2. Validate that the “Witness Rescheduler” actually saved the paralegal 10 hours.
  3. Generalize it only after it proves its value, so someone else in the firm can use it for Doe v. Roe.

You don’t start with the platform. You start with the problem.

A Note on Security & Tools

You might be thinking: “Wait, uploading client data to a web app? Compliance will have a heart attack.”

It’s a valid concern. But the beauty of these AI-generated tools is that they can often be delivered as a single HTML file that you can then save and run entirely locally on your machine—no data leaves the browser. Furthermore, if you are using an Enterprise version of your preferred LLM, your inputs remain within the firm’s secure boundary.

Speaking of tools, this capability isn’t exclusive to one platform. Whether you use Gemini, ChatGPT, or Claude, the ability to turn a prompt into a working React or HTML artifact is now a standard feature. The power lies not in the specific model, but in your willingness to ask for code instead of text.

Conclusion

We are no longer just the consumers of legal software; we are the architects. We can now build the infrastructure to manage our own chaos.

The next time you are drowning in a complex matter, don’t just ask AI for a memo or a checklist. Ask it for a tool. You might just find yourself managing the chaos (almost) on time.

Non-Legal Tangent: A Renewed Appreciation for ChatGPT

Please allow me a brief interlude for a non-legal tangent to update you on an unexpected ChatGPT medical use case and reason for my delayed posting.

Non-Legal Tangent: DALL-E 3 generated image showing a woman divided by uncertainty and struggle with language on one side and relief and clarity on the other.

On October 3rd, I was driving home, the usual thoughts of dinner plans swirling in my head. Unfortunately, the normalcy of my evening shattered as I exited the freeway and stopped at the traffic light. The driver behind me failed to stop at the light or for the accident he caused. Thinking that the damage was minor, I was more aggravated than worried as I described the events to the responding officer.

A few days later, my ability to focus disappeared. What should take minutes stretched into hours. After a trip to see my doctor, I was diagnosed with a mild concussion and told to avoid electronic screens. But the stubborn mule in me decided to power through grading assignments and teaching classes. Bad idea. I ended up causing myself great pain and extended my screen restrictions further.

The most frustrating part? I was suddenly missing words that I had been using for 20+ years. I’d stare at sentences I’d written, knowing something was off, but the right word eluded me. This was terrifying for someone whose profession revolves around precise and accurate word selection. I actively sought to regain my language capabilities.

It remains unclear what led me to the notion that ChatGPT could be a remedy to this problem. I soon found myself, however, feeding incorrect sentences to the chatbot, explaining the improper word choice, and requesting alternatives. And voila! Within seconds, ChatGPT offered options, often including the word that my mind was denying me. If the word did not come up right away, a prompt or two usually provided me with the word I sought. I was beyond grateful for the gift of my missing words.

Fast forward a month, and I am finally feeling closer to myself again. The missing words are minimal, but my appreciation for this technology has not diminished. In addition to being thankful for generative AI, I have begun wondering about its applications for others who have suffered from similar issues. My co-blogger, Becka Rich, is delving into the technology’s application for neurodiverse individuals, research which I follow closely. But I keep wondering if the technology has potential to benefit those who have suffered from traumatic brain injury or even mild dementia.

Two personal reasons shift my thoughts in this direction, beyond my recent concussion. First, I once had a student who was in a serious motor vehicle accident with a significant traumatic brain injury. She was on medical leave for over a year, and when she came back her cognitive struggles to write and speak at her previous levels were obvious. I wish this technology had been available to her then. It may have expedited regaining her confidence and language skills. Second, my family has a history of dementia. One of my biggest fears is losing myself to this disease eventually. Could this technology help delay a decline by reminding a dementia patient of their knowledge and keeping their memory active?

With these motivating thoughts, I began and continue researching the issue. Although abundant literature explores generative AI’s role in diagnostics and treatment planning, a discernible void exists with regard to patient use in cognitive rehabilitation. I finally came across a paper today that discusses AI’s use for diagnosing dementia and goes on to speculate that it has promise as part of the patient’s cognitive rehabilitation toolbox. Unfortunately, the authors do not delve too deeply into this topic or hint that research is currently being conducted on the issue (see p. 8 of PDF). This area seems ripe for further research on the issue.

This post wavers a bit from our legal focus, but hopefully you stuck with me through my non-legal tangent about my personal hiccup and my resulting discovery of an unexpected benefit of access to generative AI. I am curious to know what other, non-legal (as opposed to illegal) uses of generative AI you wish to see explored. While I am certainly not qualified to undertake medical research like this, I hope that this post will inspire someone who is qualified and who can help other grateful patients.