With sugar on top

The first thing I heard as I walked in the door was

Fuuuuck!

I put down my grocery bags, and look at her quizzically.

//Pardon?//

Apparently instead of coming over here for dinner, Steve was coming to pick Kaleigh up to go to his house. She had been looking forward to him coming over, and presenting him with a pie.

The pie in question happened to apple, freshly baked this morning. It sat on the kitchen table all afternoon, waiting to be sliced and served. Kaleigh was quite proud of her pie, and told me that I would have to have some. Jokingly, I said

//Okay, but it won't be as good as my Dad's!//

Which is true, because things like pie are never as good when they are made by someone who is not the designated pie maker in your family.

So before she left, she cut me a hunk of pie, which I ate after my dinner of two pizza pockets.

And no, it wasn't as good as my Dad's, but it was still good. Especially when you only get fresh pie once or twice a year.