C'est le jour de tarte!

Bonjour!

Once upon a time when I was in junior high, the teachers used to have Pie Day during the spring semester. The otherwise cold and lifeless women who were in charge of my early education would find enough happiness to survive one more week by making pies every Friday (which I would like to mention, they did NOT share with the rest of the class). One such day, Madame Knutson (the uber-posh and utterly loveable teacher everyone loved), gave her "étudiants préférés" some pie (yes, it was french silk pie) and taught us to sing "Oh Champs E'lysse" with one of those ancient tape players. So now whenever I have pie, I think of Madame, the Champs E'lysse song, and how badly I want to go to Europe.

Prepare yourself for some really bad French in her honor (I apologize to anyone who really speaks French):

Je souhaite que j'étais à Paris. J'aimerais voir la Tour Eiffel. J'aime le français. Mon petite-ami l'aime quand je parle français. Ne pas dire Madame Knutson.

Acclamations!