The Journey of 1,000 Miles Begins with an Apple Fritter (standard:humor, 905 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Apr 13 2025	Views/Reads: 36/8	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
It’s not so much what you don’t agree on but rather on what you o agree on. That’s what brings two people together.

Life has many paths, and I have discovered that traveling any of them
takes a lot of energy. 

Unlike The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, my energy comes from
those wonderful Apple Fritters. I can't remember the first time I had 
one, but I vividly remember the last time. 

Trying to get through life successfully is quite an energetic activity;
everybody needs that energy. Finding that energy is the great secret of 
life. 

For years, I have tried convincing The Gracious Mistress of the
Parsonage of the value of an Apple Fritter, at least for me. We've had 
this argument or rather discussion, and I have tried to prove that an 
Apple Fritter is a fruit. After all, isn't an apple fruit? And 
shouldn't we be eating fruit? 

On the other side of the dining room table, The Gracious Mistress of the
Parsonage gets her energy from eating broccoli. I don't even like 
pronouncing the name, let alone seeing it on the dining room table. But 
for her, broccoli is the Queen of all vegetables. (Yuck) 

I argue that I'm a fruit guy, but she misuses that phrase and calls me a
fruity guy. 

I can remember one time in my life when I ate broccoli. It was so
disgusting that I have never eaten it again. I can't even stand the 
smell of broccoli in our house. 

Every once in a while, I smell broccoli from the kitchen and know it's
on the dinner menu tonight. I don't mind having broccoli on the table, 
but I certainly do not accept having it on my plate. 

Through the years, I have tried to negotiate with her and tell her I
will eat Apple fritters when she eats broccoli. After all, it's what we 
like. 

Once I was a good negotiator. My mother was trying to get me to eat
spinach, which I really hated. One Saturday, I was watching Popeye the 
Sailor on TV. When my mother saw me watching it, she said, "See, Popeye 
loves spinach. I think you should be eating spinach too." 

Without even looking at her, I said, "Popeye also smokes a pipe. Does
that mean I can smoke a pipe?" That discussion never came up again. 

That's the only negotiating on food I've ever won. 

For some reason, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage hates Apple
fritters. I think she hates them more than I hate broccoli. 

For me, Apple fritters provide the energy I need to build up my attitude
of excitement in life. Nothing does that better than Apple fritters. 

She argues that because of my health condition, my food has to be
sugar-free. I don't know who came up with that idea, but a sugar-free 
menu certainly is not appealing. 

"Don't you know," she will explain, "that there is sugar in those Apple
fritters? And you need to be on a sugar-free diet." 

After years of debate, I finally thought of a solution. I talked to the
baker where I get most of my Apple fritters and we both came to an 
amicable agreement. I asked him how much sugar was in an Apple Fritter, 
and he told me. I asked if he could make the sugar free instead of 
paying for it. After all, if all the sugar is free, then according to 
The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, it is okay for me to eat. 

I tried explaining to her that sugar is always free whenever I buy an
Apple Fritter, so technically speaking, the Apple fritters I purchase 
at my bakery are sugar-free. 

How to be simpler than that is beyond my resources. She didn't accept
that argument and seriously said, "That is not what I'm talking about. 
The sugar in that Apple Fritter is dangerous to your health." 



Click here to read the rest of this story (34 more lines)