I baked an apple pie just now and my husband is whining. Apparently I am a horrible temptress who is aiming to torture him. He has been trying to watch his weight so that he does not get put on the fat boy program and to top that all off tomorrow is fast Sunday (we skip two meals once a month as part of our religious observances). I think the whole ideal that the military would put my rather skinny husband into the fat boy program is silly but the way the program is written he has apparently been on the edge so he had to slim down a bit to make weight.
The pie I made is incredible. I think that if you died it would be served in heaven. It is just sooooooooooo good. Last time I made it I ate most of it. I was nice and let my husband have a few pieces and I even let Harry and Evan split one which they promptly gobbled up. I highly recommend you baking one or two up for the holidays. Your family will love you for it.
P.S. Don't feel too bad about my husband. I mentioned to him that my hand hurt because I had burned it on the oven while baking the pie. He wondered why I would burn myself (like I did on purpose or something) and asked when I had done the burning of said hand. He admitted that he had not hear my swearing when I asked and then told me to put it under water. No kidding, really? I should put my hand under cold water to help with the burn? Who knew? He also apparently, along with not hearing the swearing in the kitchen, he missed me leaving the water running for a really long time.