On my kitchen counter there is a pie plate that holds 1/3 of an apple pie getting stale and dry. Whenever Bernie and I entertain, I offer our departing guests leftovers, especially the desert kind. Each time he wills say, “Not so fast! I might want some of that later.” So I always save some for him that ends up getting stale and dry on my counter. Until I eat it. Pie that is stale and dry is not really so bad, believe it or not. Nevertheless, when I end up eating what Bernie wanted me to save, a resentment stews with each bite. He is clearly to blame for any extra pounds I carry.