Thanksgiving Dessert

If I see a toddler hanging by a fingernail on the golden state bridge with bone crunching great white sharks circling underneath I’m gonna save that toddler.  I’m not even going to think twice about it.  Because that is how I was raised.  When I see an elderly woman with closed eyes crossing a busy intersection I’m gonna grab her arm and say,

“Hey grams, hold your horses bingo starts at five you have time.”
I live by those morals.  So when I was offered another slice of Apple Pie...I held out my plate and accepted the sweet nector that is the most delicious pie crafted by beautiful homeless children.  It didn’t matter that I had already consumed a slice of Apple Pie already, along with a slice of strawberry shortcake, two slices of cheese cake (more on cheesecake in a bit) and a slice of some delicious sugary bread the chocolate.

I won’t sit here and type out venomous lies.  I’m not going to say I was hungry.  I was NOT hungry.  In fact, I had no room left in my belly at all.  I knew that, and everyone in the room that saw my desert plate probably knew that as well.  I looked up in the eyes of the Apple Pie giver and saw no malicious intent.  Conversation stopped.  Glasses dropped.  People hungrily chowing down left the unchewed morsels of food in their mouth, jaws gaping, eyes...exasperated.  All wondering the same thing.  Would I, no.  Could I dare imagine eating another slice of Apple Pie.  I save toddlers, I save grandmas.  I eat Apple Pie.  My hand wavered.  I won’t lie, I thought about refusing the Apple Pie.  But then who would I be.  What would my life really mean.  As I held out my plate I heard gasps.  Chocking.  Babies crying, and nervous laughter.

Let me tell you something.  As the sweet nector that is Apple Pie hit my palanthia (I think that is something in your mouth but I may have made it up, err let’s just say taste buds).  As the sweet nector that is Apple Pie hit my taste buds, my head exploded.  You have never tasted Apple Pie until you have had way too much Apple Pie. 

Some people say Apple Pie is inherently American.  But I think it’s inherently Bent.  Because when it’s inside me, I know love exists.  I know people are born as clean slates, and I know Keira Knightly (sigh...smile) would find me attractive if I could just arrange a meeting between us.