Jokes about mothers-in-law abound, but you won't find any here, because frankly, I have the very best one.
Her name is Anne and I am so grateful to have her in my life. She loves me like the third daughter she never had, and I have to say, I sort of like her, too.
So, let's raise a pie to mothers-in-law...those lovely souls who take us in and tolerate us because we married one of their children. If you're lucky and you win the mother-in-law lottery, they just might come to be as treasured as a second mother. (Color me lucky.)
Anne - with Hubbard Avenue Diner's Blackberry Sour Cream Pie
P.S. Oh, yes, I'd forgotten.
Actually, there is sort of a running joke in the family about Anne. Stay a weekend with her and you'll discover when you step on the scale back home, you've added a few pounds, thanks to her delicious cooking! (No fake butter here, people.)
Just this morning for breakfast she fed me two eggs, three sausage links, a mound of hash browns, and two pieces of toast. As I waddled away from the table a little later, I suggested my day might be better spent chopping a cord of wood rather than plunking down in front of a computer.
We've learned to just wait a few days before climbing on the scale.