"Your parents spoil us," Jay said to me a couple months back.
"How so?" I replied. But I didn't really need to ask; I was already scrolling through a list in my mind. Plane tickets. Fillet mignon. Hosting us for weeks on end. Dad's fall-off-the-bone barbecue ribs. Letting us veg at the cabin. Fillet mignon. Providing vehicles. Free teeth cleanings. Movies and dinners. Fillet mignon.
"Strawberry pie," he said. "I can't wait for strawberry pie."
No, Jay isn't turning 119 or 911. Nor is he turning 11. It's still pretty safe to say, though, that he's an old man.
And if you haven't experienced Croshaw's fresh strawberry pie, you are missing out. Big time. It really is that good.
(...and thanks, Mom and Dad.)