Mominbox used to say that an honest confession is good for the soul.  In that case, I plan to be good to my soul this morning.  Ladies and gentlemen, I must confess.  I like desserts.  There I said it.  In fact growing up it was the family joke that I believed in three food groups: pie, cakes, and cookies.  To a small degree, I still do.  Of course my horizons have expanded with age, and I have added a fourth food group: fudge.  Well, anyways, our parents decided to treat us to a trip to Israel.  I was single digits age at the time, so I know it was quite a deal for them to do this feat.  One of the memories was a dinner where the waiters would serve in courses.  The food would be placed, we would eat, it would be cleared off, then the next item would be brought.  I was a bit impatient for the dessert.  I asked mominbox several times when it would get here and will freely admit that I don’t have any idea what food was there, as it was just the requirement to eat so I could get to the dessert.  (*side bar – yes, mom used that one to get me to eat.  I can see all of you nodding out there.  Yours too. )  Well, dessert time arrived and the waiter set the table starting with the person to my left and went around the table and placed three plates in front of me.  Apply puzzled look at this point.  He then brought the dessert and started serving in the same pattern.  Yes, he applied three large portions on the three plates.  Apply dumbfounded look.  The amount provided probably matched the amount of the meal.  I looked at mominbox and asked, “what do I do.”  She said that she would help me.  Many years later, she told me that the waiters, who were behind me and out of my sight, were laughing at my predicament.

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