2002-09-05 - 9:08 p.m.
CRISP
A debate rages in this household. Is blueberry crisp better than apple crisp or vice versa? From the perspective of the maker of the crisp, answering this question is easy. Blueberry crisp is better. You don�t have to peel, core, and chop blueberries.
Most of the time, this debate is purely academic. Summer is for blueberry crisp and fall is for apple crisp. But there is a short time of overlap when apples just begin to come in and blueberries are available albeit a bit pricey. It is in that overlap that debate rages, particularly in a household where the mother rarely gets motivated to make either and only on the rarest of rare occasions, in very weak moments with sufficient help, will agree to make both.
Why should this debate matter? If Mr. Philately loved blueberry and I loved apple, it probably wouldn�t matter. The answer would be relatively simple. Which one got made would depend on why I was making it. If I were making it to please him or surprise him, he�d get his choice. If I was making it due to a craving I would get my choice. If he really wanted his choice, he�d just make it just as he periodically makes banana cream pies when he gets a craving for them. (I have never craved banana cream pie in my life and can only occasional manage any interest in it at all. Nevertheless, as a reasonably good wife, I have occasionally made them.)
So why does it matter? It matter because Kat loves blueberry crisp while Day-Hay loves apple crisp. It matters because which I make is taken as a statement on the depth of my love for my children. It matters in that eternal (and infernal) contest between siblings. It�s enough to swear off making crisp for the duration of the overlapping season. It would be enough to cause me to trade in my children for another two if I didn�t know that those other two would recreate the original battle quickly enough that there is no point.
All of which explains how I came to make two crisps tonight. I was in an extraordinarily good mood and not willing to take any chances that it would be spoiled by dessert. Both children should feel loved and I�m feeling great.
Until, of course, both of the children suddenly decide after the first bite of their respective crisps that they really weren�t that hungry for the treat after all. I know my children. I know their picky eating habits and I�m stealing myself.
But if it happens with my crisps, I�ll really be fried.
LAST YEAR: In Out of the Rain
LAST FIVE ENTRIES:
Residual New Yorker
Interfering With Education
The Discipline of Cleaning Ladies
Never Mind
I�ll Never Grow Up
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Copyright 2006 by Ellen |
