The argument turned out to be that we would both make an apple pie, and it would be judged by our dad to see who had made the best pie.
We both worked the whole afternoon to make our pies, and that night our pies were tested.
My pie (blue dish) and Nathan's pie (clear dish)
Me, putting a bandana over my dad's eyes.
The contestants' slices of pie.
My dad never likes to put one of us higher than the other, so he tested, then he tested again. Since he was blindfolded he didn't know whose pie was whose, so he chose the pie he thought was best.
He picked my pie as the best! I was so excited that I had beat my oldest brother in cooking. He had always bragged about how good of a cook he was, and I had just beat him in cooking a pie (We have always been very competitive).
My mom said she thought Nathan's pie was better, because it wasn't as sweet as mine. My dad liked my pie better, because it was sweeter (He has always been a sweet-tooth).
In other words, both of the pies were good; it just depends on your mood.
From My Attic,
Eva
No comments:
Post a Comment