I thought I was in big trouble a couple of weeks ago when the school secretary called me into her office. Teachers know who wields the authority in the building, and I was racking my mind trying to think of what I could have possibly overlooked or left undone. My wide eyes grew wider and my eyebrows shot up in alarm when she asked me to close the door behind me.
"Yes?" I said.
She lowered her voice and looked at me in conspiracy. "We're having a shower for Jessica," she named a colleague who was expecting and also right outside the door, "and I was wondering if you'd make your famous lemon squares."
I exhaled in relief. "Of course," I replied. I use my mom's recipe which calls for butter and plenty of lemon zest, and the results are always pretty tasty.
A few days later I saw the principal in the hallway at passing time. I smiled, and she waved me over.
"Yes?" I asked, with curiosity.
"I heard you were making lemon squares for the shower!"
"Yes?" I said.
She lowered her voice and looked at me in conspiracy. "We're having a shower for Jessica," she named a colleague who was expecting and also right outside the door, "and I was wondering if you'd make your famous lemon squares."
I exhaled in relief. "Of course," I replied. I use my mom's recipe which calls for butter and plenty of lemon zest, and the results are always pretty tasty.
A few days later I saw the principal in the hallway at passing time. I smiled, and she waved me over.
"Yes?" I asked, with curiosity.
"I heard you were making lemon squares for the shower!"