Today you could call me, Mrs. Smith. And purchasing four of these went against everything in my being, but it ended up being the right decision. I know how to make a killer apple pie, crust included, so it seemed an easy thing to sign up for for the 4th grade Founding Father’s Festival. So easy, I went ahead and signed up to make all four of the requested pies. Because I float around in a semi-constant state of denial most of the time.
Then Monday hit and it was a doozy. And I was sitting in the Walmart parking lot because I needed to get something else and before I knew it, these four pies magically appeared in my shopping cart. Oh, and I’d just been texting with Katie’s teacher who was all, “Just BUY the stupid pies, woman!” Okay, she didn’t say that at all, but she did imply that it would be no big deal if I didn’t hand peel, core, and slice 4,000 apples that night in order to provide pie for 22 very undiscriminating 4th graders. In the end, I agreed.
When it was all said and done, they really only needed three pies, so one came back to us. We had some after dinner and I must say, I can definitely tell a difference. And this will never do for a proper holiday pie, but for all the goofiness we experienced in this house yesterday, Mrs. Smith could very well have saved the day.
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