On Sundays the residents get pie for dessert. We always put the desserts on the table when setting the tables, so the pie was already out when I went to ask them what they wanted for lunch.
Eleanor [pointing at Louise's pie]: What's wrong with this picture?
Me: I don't know. That looks like good pie to me.
Eleanor [picking up her plate]: No, look at mine. What is wrong with this?
Me: It's the same kind, it just tipped over.
Eleanor: No, that's not what's wrong. Look at how much bigger hers is than mine.
Louise: It's true. Look how much smaller her pie is.
Eleanor: It's not fair. She shouldn't get more pie.
Me: Alright, let me go to the kitchen and see what I can find.
All the remaining pieces of pie were smaller than Louise's. I headed back to the dining room to let them know. By the time I had gotten there, they had switched pieces of pie.
Eleanor: Look at this.
Me: What?
Louise: Mine is smaller.
Eleanor: That's not fair.
Me: I don't know what to tell you.
Eleanor: Well, it's not fair!
Me [exasperated and heading back to the kitchen]: Well, only eat half of yours then, and it will be even.
About 10 minutes later I headed back out to the dining room to see if any of the other residents had come yet. One of their tablemates was just settling in.
Glenda [to Eleanor]: My, that's quite a large piece of pie you have there!
Oh for heaven's sake, ladies!
