“Oopsie!”

What would they (and particularly her son) like? She thought that the nicest thing she could possibly do would be to bake a pie for them.
What would they (and particularly her son) like? She thought that the nicest thing she could possibly do would be to bake a pie for them.

I saw an ad online the other day offering a means to convert your CDs into digital files, suitable for playing on other devices. It reminded me of a funny story I heard from one prospective resident a number of years ago who had her own unique way of converting a music collection.

It seems that her son had married a lovely young woman and they had moved from their hometowns in the Midwest to a small apartment in Manhattan. After they had been there long enough to get settled in, Mom decided that she would go and visit them for a few days. They said they would be happy to find room for her in their apartment and she headed their way.

They all celebrated the evening of her arrival with a nice meal out on the town. The next day, when they were off to work, mom got a little bored at the apartment on her own. So she decided that she would do something nice for them. What would they (and particularly her son) like? She thought that the nicest thing she could possibly do would be to bake a pie for them.

Looking into the kitchen cabinets, she didn’t find much in the way of ingredients. Hmmph! Obviously, her new daughter-in-law didn’t do much cooking for her son. Venturing out into this strange, unknown city, she found a little bodega where she stocked up on all the needed supplies. Flour, butter, peaches, sugar . . .

When she got back to the apartment, she spread everything out on the cramped countertop and got to work. Lovingly, she made the crust by hand and fitted it into the pie plate (which she also had to purchase), fluting the edges. After turning on the oven, she then cut and peeled the peaches and made the filling, which she ladled into the crust. Something didn’t smell quite right to her, but then she was in New York in a crowded apartment building.

Brushing the flour off her hands, she turned to put the pie into the oven, opened the door and discovered the source of the smell. As her daughter-in-law (and her son) didn’t cook but instead got take-out on a regular basis, they had no need for an oven. What they did need, however, was some extra storage space in the cramped apartment. And the oven was a great, convenient place to store their CD collection.

I don’t know if she ever finished that pie (or if they had to go out and find one)—but she did successfully convert their entire music collection into one very expensive mess.

Sometimes, along the gray mile, all you can do is the best you can do. You may make mistakes, but you have to follow your heart. Then, laugh, forgive yourself and move on.

Tom Text

@TomNBTX

 

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