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EXTRA CRUNCHY
Where’s My Damn Birthday Pie?
And I don’t want any gravel this time!
For many a year our youngest daughter has brought me a pumpkin pie on my birthday. There have been iterations: homemade crust, store-bought, even a graham cracker version once, and the filling also has been adjusted over the years. It’s always been good and, more importantly, it has always been reliable.
We did have a minor mishap one year. As she proudly walked her creation from the car to my door, she stumbled, and the pie landed face down in my driveway. I picked out the rocks, enjoyed what I could, and attached “Gravel” to her name for a few months.
She’s had other names. Back when she was dating her husband-to-be, she borrowed my car and managed to fill it up with diesel fuel. That cost a few hundred dollars, and for years after, I preceded her given name with “Diesel” whenever I remembered that incident.
That is why I feel that she owes me that birthday pie on time.
An unpaid debt
And that is why I was more than a little miffed when she informed me that my pie would be a week late this year. Apparently, she feels that some doctor appointments or other tom-foolery are more important than honoring her duty to her father!
