No Pie

I think Jim is trying to be helpful.

Last night we were on the way home from dinner and I suggested an innocent ice cream cone.

"I thought you wanted to be skinny," he said, referring to a comment I made at dinner.

"I do," I said. "But I also want ice cream."

"It doesn't really work that way," he reasoned.

I thought about it for a minute. I knew we were headed north early Saturday morning to pick up a new truck for his business. I like to make these little necessary trips into adventures in some way and I knew that there was a famous restaurant between here and there ... the Norske Nook.

I'm sure you've heard of this place. They're famous for pie. World famous. Blue ribbons and stuff like that.

I like pie. Lemon meringue in particular. And Dutch apple. I started daydreaming.

"Ok, I'll skip the ice cream tonight, but I get pie tomorrow," I declared forcefully. I have to be pretty stern about things like this because when Jim gets in work mode, he often forgets about the frivolous other stuff. Like me wanting pie.

"We have to go through Osseo. You'll get pie," he said.

Fast forward.

Here we sit, at 8:30 p.m. Saturday. There was no pie. As predicted, he got in work mode and we flew through Osseo with nary a look toward the Nook.

I just reminded him that not only did I not get ice cream, but I also did not get pie.

"See. I'm just trying to help," he says.

Funny how I am not really that grateful.