She blames me for us not havin’ kids, too. The truth is, it’s ‘cause Tom can’t. He was checked, but I never told anyone ‘bout it. He felt some bad when he found out. Took to drinkin’ more than ever.
But it was when she criticized my mincemeat pie, after she’d eaten a huge piece, sayin’ it wasn’t quite as good this year, and I must’ve forgotten somethin’ like my secret ingredient, that I blew up. The old witch! I’d call her somethin’ else, but in spite of drinkin’, dancin’ and playin’ a little poker, I don’t hold with cussin’ much. I feel it sort of cheapens a woman. Still I told her how I felt before I stormed out with Tom followin’. He tried to tell me she don’t mean no harm; it’s just her way. Yeah, right! She does mean harm. She’d like to get rid of all her sons’ wives and get her little boys back.
So what's your favorite pie? I'll bet it's not mincemeat.