Squashed

He placed the Perfect Apple Pie on the seat of the car in preparation for our Easter Sunday visiting. Then he forgot it was there and threw the diaper bag on top of it. The perfectly shaped crust was squashed and he never even said a word until I took it out of the car and noticed it was flat. "It's the heat of the car. It was too hot in there. It sank on its own," he said over and over. But he had that look in his eye. . .