Chip and Dale Designs

                                     The Great Cherry Debacle of 1973

A long, long, time ago, in a decade that has the letter 7 in it, something horrible happened and it haunts me to this day.

In the house where I grew up, we had a huge set of stairs leading to the 2^nd floor.  It must have been 25 steps high. There was also a rockin bannister that ran along the steps.  This was the first bannister I learned to ride- you could really pick up some speed by the time you hit the last step! Of course, I was 120 plus pounds lighter then. If I tried that now  I would have splinters in my ass til 2020 and would have to replace all of the broken balusters.

 

Anywho, at the top of the steps, my father converted a nice big bedroom into a bathroom as my mother always wanted a large bathroom. Why? I have no fricking clue. I hate cleaning my tiny bathroom. I definitely would not want to clean anything bigger than what I have now. It would have been a great bedroom for me, but NO- I get the 2’ x 4’ bedroom at the front of the house that barely had enough room in it for a bed. But, my mother got what she wanted because my father was awesome.  (So was my mother, really).

 

One day, my mother decided to make a cherry pie. Yep- the good ole days when moms stayed home and baked and did laundry. I would not have liked to have been a housewife back then. I suck at both of those things. Up until that point I had no aversion to the little red things with pits that could choke a small child. I decided to cut myself a piece while she was cleaning the bathroom. Yep- the same bathroom at the top of the stairs with the 96 steps leading up to it. This was in the 70’s, people. And in the middle of coal mine country. It was a miracle we had an inside toilet, let alone more than one.

 As I climbed the stairs to go watch my mother clean (a favorite past time of mine), I tripped and fell with my damn cherry pie. There went the pie, and I went flying down the steps. I landed at the bottom, totally shaken. As I looked up, I realized there was red crap all over the wall! I started to scream- I must be bleeding to death! At this point, I was out of control convinced I was dying (but totally hoping the guys from that show Emergency will come save me- remember Johnny Gage? Hmmm hmmm). My mother finally brought her head up out of the toilet to see what the hell I was screaming about.  She took one look at me, one look at the wall and said “Courtenay- you are not bleeding to death. It’s cherry pie!” End of discussion. I was still convinced I was bleeding, but as I started to wipe myself off I did not find any cuts or holes. Dammit- she was right, AGAIN!


 

And this, my friends, is the reason you will never catch me eating a nasty cherry!  Unless it is disguised in my friend Eileen’s most awesome black forest cake then I will indeed do it. But if you ever had a taste of her cake you would understand.

Oh the good times of my youth-

Have a great day everyone!