Kyle and I are trying to eat better. We don't want to, but we got to.
Tonight we went to an old fashioned diner with a few friends. We both had a sensible meal with a milk shake for a little treat. But what the diner is really known for is its pie.
When everyone else ordered pie, we declined (with my hand firmly gripping Kyle's thigh).
When we were offered multiple bites of peanut fudge cream pie,
I we said no.
We were doing so well, when a women came over and said that she noticed our food came out really slow and that she wants to treat us to pie.
At first I thought she was just a concerned patron. Then she brought out food to a table and I thought she was just a really active patron. But then I was informed that she was the manager. Now in my defense, she was wearing normal clothes where the rest of the staff were donning poodle skirts.
Kyle said that if he were really responsible he would have turned down the free pie, to which our friend responded, "that wouldn't have been responsible, that would have been stupid."
Regardless, it was fate. We got pie.
Banana cream pie.
Don't let the picture fool you. We spilt it.