He Likes Pie

In an effort to help The Boy continue his recovery this past week, I made him an apple pie.

{Status update: feeling much better and now off his steroid regimine…thank goodness. They made him feel better but left him hyper and unable to sleep.}

He likes apple pie. He likes apple pie A LOT. I suppose he gets that from his father…or from his mother’s really wonderful apple pie.

Good for him that he married a woman who can make a pretty darn-good apple pie.

And just as I thought, he loved the apple pie. (Even more so as I made his favorite pie crust cinnamon roll with the leftover dough!)

Sunday:
The Boy: This is a wonderful apple pie.
Me: Good! I’m so glad. I made it for you.

Monday:
The Boy: I’m getting another piece of apple pie. This is good stuff!
Me: I’m so happy that you’re enjoying the pie.
The Boy: How could I not? It’s apple pie!

Tuesday:
The Boy: Only one piece left?
Me: Not actually – I put some in the lunches we didn’t take to work, but yes, there’s only one piece here at home.
The Boy: It’s just a shame that it’s all gone. You know, I would eat an apple pie if you made one this weekend. I’d even eat a cherry pie. If you were to make one, that is.

Pathetic.

{Did you know that yesterday – January 23rd – was National Pie Day?}