pi(e)

On Monday, I saw something on a website somewhere that reminded me that Wednesday would be Pi Day.

So I said to G (who was home sick, which he would very shortly give to me...), "Pi day is coming up.  I'll have to think of what I'm going to make."

G looked at me with a look of vague bewilderment.

"You, know, Pi day.  Like, 3.14.  Pi."

The look of bewilderment acquired an edge of concern (possibly for my sanity).

"Three-point-one-four.  March fourteenth.  Pi day."

G continued to look confused and concerned.  It was at this point that I understood the problem.  G, who was born and raised (and lives) in France, abbreviates dates the way people in France do (and pretty much most countries that aren't the USA) - which is to say, day first, month second.  Thus, Wednesday would not be Pi Day, it would be... Some-Number-That's-A-Lot-Bigger-Than-Pi-Day.  I explained this to him.

His response was, "who would celebrate Pi Day?"

"Well," I told him, "math people do.  Nerds do.  We did in high school.  We had Mole Day too, and we had a contest for making toy moles."

Mole Day required further explanation (June 2nd, after Avogadro's number (6.02e23)).  Apparently, only weirdos and super-nerds would celebrate Pi Day or Mole Day.  Apparently, the French (and by extension, he) are totally and completely normal, and would never do anything so strange or weird or silly or nerdy.  I countered with examples of G's non-normal, nerdy tendencies, which were all pretty much ignored.

At any rate, I was feeling not at all the thing on Tuesday, and my vague plans for another meat pie were foiled by my inability to think about shopping.

Wednesday (when I was feeling much better), I asked G to stop at the store for some apples and brown sugar.  The request for brown sugar was met with consternation (G didn't think that sugar came any browner than a sort of dark blond, but he returned from the store with actual brown sugar.  Yay!)

I made an apple pi(e), and threw in some frozen berries, and baked it.  Dinner was leftover chicken soup (from when G wasn't feeling good on Monday).

The Apple-Berry Pi came out pretty well.

G served the pi(e).  It was his idea to do the whipped cream pi.

This morning, as he ate pi(e) for breakfast, G said to me, "I think I like Pi Day. It means I get a pie every year, without asking for it."