Three peanut butter pies in less than two weeks is acceptable behaviour (oops, i spelled that the wrong way), right? I mean, nothing's too excessive when you're on vacation. That's the argument I'm sticking with, anyway.
Merschon made the final pie for our Mamma-Mia-you-can't-help-but-sing-along-party (see Meryl Streep in the background there?). And she wrote my name on the top. Even though everyone thought I did that part on my own, and no one would believe me when I tried to defend myself. Needless to say, all but one teeny-tiny piece got devoured that night. Our innocent sing-along turned into a raging double-feature when we mixed in a little Moulin Rouge. Ewan sang to Nicole, I sang to my pie, "In the name of love, one night in the name of love... I can't survive without your sweet love. Oh baby, don't leave me this way!"
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