Don't make love to it, FUCK IT!

My roomies had a huge family dinner tonight and I was the honorary family member. Always eager to make a splash, I decided to contribute by preparing a classic apple pie (everyone keeps calling me American Girl anyways!).

I am not a strong baker. I have not yet mastered my new stove. And I did not know anyone at this party. Pie potential was at an all-time low.

With a thin coating of flower dusted all over me, guests made their way into the kitchen to introduce themselves, so I was both flattered and annoyed by the distraction. In between introductions, I managed to line the pie plate, slice the apples and get all remaining ingredients into a saucepan. Of course, just as I lit the fire beneath the saucepan, my roommates boisterous aunt walks in. Here's how it went down:

Aunt: Sheila, you making dessert? What will you serve with that pie?
Shelly: Nothing.
Aunt: Humph. Exit Aunt.
Shelly: Return Aunt. Do you think I should have something on the side?
Aunt: I don't think so. Long pause. I KNOW SO!
Shelly: ...
Aunt: Here's some custard child. Use it well, Sheila.
Shelly: Thanks. And it's actually Shelly. Shelly giggles (nervously).
Aunt: What? You know I am talking to you. I'm looking at you, so I'm talking to you. Sheila, Shelly, whatever. Whatever, whatever. Aunt does not giggle. Exit Aunt.

What the hell was that@*!? Forget it. Back to baking...

Gasp! My pie ingredients were starting to stick to the saucepan! Nobody wants a smokey-flavoured apple pie! So how does one save a sauce that is threatening to stick and burn? Stir! Stir, scrape and stir! Stir like you've never stirred before! C'mon, don't make love to it, FUCK IT!

Soon the sauce was saved, pie baked and fear of aunt fading? Exhale.