Apple peelings = happy feelings

[does this remind you of Lady and the Tramp or what? I was cracking up! Slow down, kids.]

Along with our big bag of peaches, we got a supply of apples. So, for family home evening last night, we made apple crisp (great recipe). Makai was intrigued from the moment I pulled out the apple peeler: "What is that, Mom?!" When I twirled that first apple through, and the peeling surged out in a long, skinny pile of curl, Makai let out a real squeal of delight. He wanted a turn, and another, and let's do another one, Mom. Pretty soon, the apples were gone, but Makai was not done. While I was busy trying to keep the peeled apples from browning, Makai went to the frig and brought out a bell pepper and popped it on the peeler! Good try, son, but no dice.

I remember loving this same activity when I was little. I don't remember getting the peeler, or the apples, or even what they ultimately were made into (did we bottle them for future apple pies?), but I remember peeling them, with that peeler clamped to our big, wood, kitchen table. Good memories. Thankfully, apple crisp warm from the oven, melting my scoop of vanilla ice cream just a bit, is not just a memory.