“To foreigners, a Yankee is an American.
To Americans, a Yankee is a Northerner.
To Northerners, a Yankee is an Easterner.
To Easterners, a Yankee is a New Englander.
To New Englanders, a Yankee is a Vermonter.
And in Vermont, a Yankee is somebody who eats pie for breakfast.”
— credited to E. B. White
I’m not from Vermont, but eating pie for breakfast is definitely something I grew up with. I’m from the South Shore of Massachusetts, below Boston but Above the Cape, and from when I was a child right up through present day, if a pie appeared in the house for dessert, whatever was left over was totally going to be breakfast the next morning.
Only when I moved to New York did I discover that it was strange. Whereas I had never really been into the idea of pizza as a breakfast food, the first time I served myself a piece of pie for breakfast I got this look of confused horror, as if I were breaking some heretofore unknown rule delimiting breakfast foods and desserts as having no crossover whatsoever.
But here’s the thing about pie: it’s fruit. It’s grains. It’s a pastry with fruit filling. It is a filling thing, and it tastes amazing, and if it’s sugary and buttery and glazed, that means you have the whole day to work off the sugar high and the fats and the calories! It totally beats eating something like that right before you go get prone and still and unconscious for the night, don’t you think?
This pie, for the record, was apple.
There’s a story involving an apple in Nightmare Fuel! Have you read it yet? Curious as to how a fruit so well suited for filling in a tasty, tasty pie can become creepypasta? Click the My Books link up top to find out where you can get the eBook – or for a limited time, click the Buy Now button on the left to purchase a signed print copy.
Buy it and Bits of Bliss at the same time for a 20% discount off both volumes!