I went to Whole Foods. I saw the apple pies. I love apple pies. I
love my mother’s apple pie the best, but when that’s not available, a
good-looking apple pie sure can tempt. But a whole pie? Those, I thought, are
too big. I just want a slice, not an event.
Then I saw the half-sized apple pies. Still too big, I thought. I just want a taste.
Then I saw the tiny little apple pies. So tiny. So adorable. Whole, complete pies in little single-serving sizes. And one apple pie left. It was meant for me.
I brought it home and vaguely threatened my husband so that it would not get eaten by accident. I thought about it several times. I thought about it while I was making dinner. I thought about it when I was finished dinner. I thought about it while we were reading books to the children.
Finally, the time came. I opened the little clear cover. I got out a nice knife. A special occasion deserves a good knife. I wanted to relish this little treat.
I cut into it, gently, pulled the knife back, and...