Fried Apple Pies
I'm up at dawn, tying the lawnmower to my bicycle. I pull it across town to my grandma's house. For we have a deal. I'm to cut her grass and she's to make me fried apple pies. I don't want to take advantage of my Grandma but I'm getting the better of this deal.
All I have to do is cut the grass. When I m finished Grandma has to gather the flour, salt, cinnamon, rolling pin, pans and skillet. She has to peal the apples and cut them up, roll them in a crust, fry them in hot oil and coat them with powdered sugar. Its hot in her kitchen so I always try to help her.
I don't think she is a good business woman. But a deal is a deal. She makes the pies and tells me she loves me. I eat the pies and tell her that I love her. When I'm done she gives me a big hug and a kiss.
But you know, by the smile on Grandma's face I am starting to think this may be a good deal for the both of us.
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