![]() ![]() “This could take all day,” I thought, shifting from one foot to the other. Cherry in the bowl, pit in the trash, cherry here, pit there, cha, cha, cha, one cherry at a time. The first order of business is to cut the cherries in half and remove the pits. On the third flyby I find it, “Magic Peach Cobbler - but you can use any kind of fruit,” it says in the directions. “I remember having a recipe somewhere,” I think, flipping pages in the cookbook. Regardless, I am determined to get rid of those beady-eyed cherries. Cooking is no longer a challenge, no longer fun like it used to be. I used to bake when had to cook for a growing family. “Maybe I’ll make a cherry cobbler,” I thought in a domestic moment. He remembered this important fact the first time he bit into one. Unlike the seedless grapes I usually buy, cherries have pits. They probably looked good in the produce section. So, why do I have cherries in the fridge? It’s my son’s fault. ![]() ![]() In spite of the sweetness, they always seem to have a tart aftertaste to me. I know what she meant, literally.Įvery time I open the refrigerator, beady little cherry eyeballs stare up at me. “If life is a bowl of cherries, why am I in the pits?” asked humorist Erma Bombeck. ![]()
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