CAN SHE MAKE A CHERRY PIE, CHARMING BILLY?

When we were a young married couple, Gerald and I would go to the Fish And Game Lodge for a monthly potluck dinner followed with 50/50 dancing. 

Each month I would try to outdo myself with some showy dessert for the dinner.

One month I had worked on Saturday, and when I got home I was longing to lie down and relax prior to the party. I asked Gerald, "Sweetheart, why don't you go to Kroger and pick up something from the Deli?" He had a crestfallen look on his face and asked, "Aren't you going to make something?"

My all-wise mother, sensing Gerald's desire, began singing the old folk song Charming Billy: 

"Can she make a cherry pie
Billy Boy, Billy Boy?
Can she make a cherry pie
Charming Billy?
She can make a cherry pie,
Quick as a cat can wink its eye,
She's a young thing
And cannot leave her mother."

I got the message immediately that he wanted me to make something "special";  I spun into action--they call me "The White Tornado"--and told Gerald to rush to the store to buy ingredients I needed.  After he left for the store Mother said, "You know he likes it when you show off your cooking!"  

I didn't make a cherry pie that time, because I didn't have enough time, but I did make a Strawberry Trifle, which is a very attractive dish and usually elicits some "ooohs" and "aaahs".

In our family we have an acronym--P.I.E.--which means PRESENTATION IS EVERYTHING. Growing up, if we were having company, and something my mother made didn't look "presentable" she would hide it. Of course we would eat it later, but it had to be pretty for company.