Apple Slices for Days

Being a psychology nerd, I'm all about birth order research studies. And after having been the youngest in the family for 22 years, I consider my life a research study. And let me tell you, when you're the baby of the family, you get special treatment.

Some of it is really positive, like you're sister-in-law putting together a fantastic blog for you (see above, left, right, and all around).

Or your brother still driving all of the long, agonizing, boring I-29 trips from Nebraska to Missouri for you.

And letting you start the #AdventuresWithTimTom hashtag and encouraging others to follow suit.

Or your brother pushing your hair out of your face as you make Gooseberry Pie together.

Or something like that.

But when you're the baby runt of the family, sometimes it's not so positive.

Like being reminded that you are the runt. In literally every. single. family. photo.

Just hanging out at everyone's shoulder level.

For a while I thought it was just because I was a girl, and they were boys.
NOPE.

Okay, I just put this one in to show off Chris's cargo pants and Benjy's baby, hairless face.

But being the youngest can also be slightly embarrassing. Of course for the obvious reasons like everyone remembering when you spelled your name as "Henis,"
or telling your family you remember your brothers pushing you down the hallway of the hospital hours after you were born,
or truly believing that everyone around you was praising your family's wisdom when they used the phrase "in Heins sight."

But also when you tell your mom. At the age of 22. During the weekend of your bridal shower. 3 months before you're going to be a wife.

That you still can't cut an apple.

And you only eat an apple cut into slices when you're home.

When you hint at her to cut it for you without coming out and saying you can't cut it yourself.

And she always does because she's an amazing mom. Even though she thinks you're a little crazy.

But again, because she's an amazing mom and sets you up for success in being a great wife (and knows that all good wives can slice an apple for Pete's sake), she sends you a care package the next week.

Golly, what a wise Mom - saving me from despair and promoting my health!

So then I tried it out. AND IT WORKS. 

I think it works better because it's red. #appleslicesfordays

And although it doesn't have the same taste of love as an apple slice cut up for you by your mom, it will do the trick. 

And now that Joel and I can finally enjoy apple slices together after more than 2 years of me always avoiding the subject and suggesting we eat easier-to-cut fruits like bananas and grapes, we had to give the apple slices something to dip themselves in. A maiden voyage. A toast. A celebration.

Toffee Apple Dip

Check out the recipe below. And if you need help slicing your apple too (there has to be someone out there), I highly suggest you get a great mom like mine. Or, an apple slicer. But the mom is better, really.

Toffee Apple Dip

Ingredients:
8 oz. cream cheese, softened
3/4 c. brown sugar, packed
1/2 c. powdered sugar (optional...but c'mon, let's be real)
1 t vanilla extract
1/2-3/4 c. English Toffee bits (depending on how much crunch you like)
Sliced apples!

Directions:

1. In a small bowl, beat together cream cheese, sugars and vanilla extract.
2. Fold in English Toffee bits.
3. Cover and chill 2 hours before serving with apple slices.

Or, not.

"Chilling for 2 hours" is kind of like "do not eat raw cookie dough."