Wha' Happened?

Wha' Happened?
By: Linda DePeel (c)2008

This was back in 1983. Mark was a year old and Mike was 4. My husband loved lemon meringue pie, and I'd never made one before, and was just a bit apprehensive. But he whined and complained that all I ever made was cherry and apple and (my favorite) peach! So, like a dutiful wife, I caved.

I made my crust, added the filling, then sweat, swore and swore some more as I made the meringue. I prayed hard and put it in the oven to bake, keeping the boys out of Harm's Way. I worried and fretted and stewed. What if something went wrong? I'd never hear the end of it, and I often accused my husband of being a fish wife in another life.

Timer went off and I flew into the kitchen, still praying. I carefully removed the pie from the oven, treating it as if it were pot of nitroglycerine, and set it on the counter to cool. It looked fine, but how would it taste. That would be the ultimate test. Well, nothing to do now but turn off the oven and wait for my husband to get home.

I had made a roast, complete with potatoes, vegetable, fruit, and of course, lemon meringue pie. My husband beamed. "I can't wait to taste it," he said. Then, before we knew what was ha ppening, Mike climbed up onto the stool and onto the counter. "I want to seeeeeeeee, Mum!" he said.

"Michael Allen, no!" my husband cried, but it was too late. The pie went sailing to the floor, and I could have fallen down in a heap to weep. All my hard work, all the anxiety--gone in one fell swoop! My husband picked up the pie. "Uh--dear," he said, clearing his throat. "It-it seems to be okay. There's not even a dent in it!" Huh? How was that possible? It should have been scrambled! I had been standing there, with my head in my hands, and I peeked between my fingers. Sure enough, he was right! I looked at the floor. Nothing. What in the world was going on here? My husband shrugged. "Well, uh, I guess we'll, uh, see how it tastes." I thought Well, don't sound too enthusiastic about it.

Little was said during the meal and after what seemed an eternity, it was Pie Time. I handed my husband the knife. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I thought maybe we'd need a chain saw. But, no problemo! And it was "delish"! I kept saying, "Wha' happened?" I guess it didn't matter. My husband loved it and asked me to make another. My response: "Nope. I'll let you do it!"