Just last Sunday was Easter, so let me start off by saying: Happy Easter!!!
This little guy looks a tad grumpy but isn't he cute?
For Easter my Mom, Mom’s best friend (Eric), Dad, and Aunt (Dad’s sister) came up to visit me in Davis last Saturday. It was a lovely treat especially since I don’t see my Aunt very often since she lives in Los Angeles. I was able to show my them downtown Davis – “so cute!” they said – and the Davis bookstore which we pillaged through for cute UCD shirts and memorabilia.
They even saw my dorm room, which I was so busy cleaning that morning. I vacuumed, dusted, fixed my bed, reorganized my desk, and shoved everything that I didn’t know where to go in the closet. (Haha…) It looked all nice when they came in and by the nods of their heads and the lack of questions like “When did you last clean?”, I figured I did a good enough job.
When my family greeted me, they all came bearing a gift. Check them out:
"Watering Can Flower" brought by Mom
Pink carnations with Easter Egg
Easter egg that "came" with the pink carnations
Orange Star (flowers)
The three flowers on a window sill with a balloon.
Count how many “things” are in the above picture. Three flowers and one balloon, so there are four things.
How many family members came to visit me? Mom, Eric, Dad, and Aunt. So four again.
Logically you could assume that each one of them carried in a flower or the balloon. But that is not the case! My mom (or was it my Aunt?) carried in a flower AND the balloon. But I said they all came bearing a gift. What did my dad give me?
After I gave all the initial hugs and greetings, I noticed my dad standing there behind everyone. When there was a slight pause in the conversations, I walked toward my dad and asked him how he was.
The first thing you should know about my dad is that he is a man of very few words. He rarely shares his opinions. Our conversations are at most 5 minutes long. This only makes the words he does say AND his actions all the more important. When I approached him he was holding a white plastic bag with something wrapped in foil inside it.
“I baked you an apple pie,” he said handing over the white plastic bag.
“That’s an apple pie in there?” I asked not hiding the surprised expression on my face.
“Are you sure?”
“You baked it?”
After we all returned from our mini Davis tour, we gathered outside my apartment near the parking lot. The subject of the apple came up again because I couldn’t help asking him, “Did you really bake that pie?”
He smiled slyly and said, “When you open it, you tell me.”
The second think you should know about my dad is that he likes to tease. How does he do that when he hardly talks? At the minimum 50% of what he says is a joke. However, he only jokes with you when he likes you or feels comfortable with you.
I nodded my head. Then with gusto and a smile displayed from ear to ear he said,
“But you HAVE to eat it with ice cream. It’s not apple pie without ice cream, vanilla ice cream.”
So there you go, folks. The man of very few words who doesn’t share his opinion on much said that I MUST have apple pie with ice cream.
And so I did. Thanks, Dad. :)
Got some Thrifty ice cream to go with the apple pie. Did he really make it? Well, I guess I'll never know for sure. ;)
Topped the apple pie with vanilla ice cream ... and coffee ice cream ...