"One time," my Grandmom said with a devious grin, telling me a tale I hadn't heard before, "your Aunt Carol and I snuck out shopping together. We told your grandfather that we'd be back in about an hour.
"Three hours later," she laughed, "with shopping bags in hand, we were home.
"As we made our way through the front door, we handed your grandfather this shoo-fly pie we'd bought while out. Little did we know," she explained, "that he secretly loved shoo-fly pie."
"We were instantly forgiven for being late."
As I sit alone in Shady Maple Smorgasbord, eating a delicious forkful of molasses and brown-surgary-butter goodness, I smile. Because in reality, I'm not really here alone. As I enjoy my first ever shoo-fly pie, I know my grandfather is enjoying it with me.
YOU ARE READING
Grandparents
Non-FictionSmall memories. Autobiographical On-going short stories / flash non-fiction. Written and © 2021 & 2023 by A. E. F. All Rights Reserved.
