Chad and Trevor had gone grocery shopping, as they do each week, and we were all chatting at the dinner table about what we would have for dessert. This isn't usually a long discussion, because ninety-nine percent of the time we each have a cookie. Occasionally, on the weekends mainly, we have ice cream, and, ever-so-rarely, there is some other treat from a birthday party goody bag or whatever. Since it was just an average night, we were about to head to the cookie jar for some oreos. Then, out of the blue, Chad mentioned that he had bought a lemon merengue pie. I was surprised and delighted. "Wow! That's awesome! I can't remember you ever buying a pie EVER EVER in the 11 years I've known you!" I exclaimed. Chad laughed, "I'm just kidding. Why would I ever buy a pie? What would we do with a whole pie?" By that point, though, my mouth was watering at the mere thought of the sweet and tart lemon merengue pie that, for a few beautiful seconds, was almost on my plate. Chad hadn't thought there was any chance I'd take him seriously. And, really, why did I? It would be crazy to buy a whole pie. Unprecedented. Excessive. But I was still a teeny bit disappointed, and reminded Chad that it isn't nice to tease a woman about dessert.
During dinner tonight, I went into the fridge to get some ketchup, and what do you suppose I found?
It was the biggest, pouffiest, most merenguey pie you have ever seen. A sweet reminder that 11 years isn't all that long.In the end, the pie was sickeningly sweet, and way too rich for any of us to eat more than a small piece. But it was the most memorable pie I have ever had.
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