Cherry Topping:
4 cups cherries
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 tbsp cornstarch
Graham Cracker Crust:
24 graham crackers
3/4 cup melted salted butter
2 tbsp sugar
Cream Layer:
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 package cream cheese
1/2 cup sugar
Directions:
Cherry Topping: Mix cherries, sugar, water, lemon juice, and cornstarch in a saucepan. Boil, then simmer for 10 minutes. Cool in fridge for 1-2 hours.
Crust: Preheat oven to 375°F. Process crackers, mix with butter and sugar, press in 9×13 pan, bake for 10 minutes.
Cream Layer: Whip cream, sugar, and vanilla. Mix cream cheese and sugar, combine with whipped cream. Spread over crust.
Assembly: Add cherry topping on cream layer. Serve chilled.
The article advises, “Cook the cherry topping until thickened,” and “whip the cream mixture until it forms stiff peaks,” ensuring perfect texture. Enjoy your “homemade cherry delight” that’s sure to “wow your guests.”
The Saga of My Husband, My Mom, and Rent: A Family Drama
Oh, the pleasures of family dynamics; those complex networks of affection, animosity, and, it seems, rent. What if I told you a small story from the front lines of my own soap opera to start things off?
Imagine this: Dad recently passed away and went to the great beyond, leaving Mom sad and alone. So, of course, I propose that she move in with us, partly out of compassion and partly out of sheer guilt. You know, to socialize with the grandchildren and take in the warmth of family.
Now enter my spouse, who has obviously been attending the “How to Be a Loving Family Man” course. His initial response was a firm no, but after some deft haggling on my part, he reluctantly agreed—but only under one condition. The worst part, get ready: my distraught mother would have to pay the rent.
You did really read correctly. Pay rent. in a home that we currently own and are not renting. Start the crying or laughing. His logic? He replied, grinning in a way that I can only characterize as evil, “Your mother is a leech.” “After she moves in with us, she won’t go.”
His reasoning continued, a train on the loose about to crash down a precipice. She simply doesn’t make sense to utilize anything for free when she will consume our food and electricity. This residence is not a hotel, and she has to know that!
With my blood boiling, I knew something was wrong. The reason for this issue is that I wedded a man who seemed to believe he was the Ritz-Carlton’s management. How daring! Here we are, with equal rights to the house, having both contributed to its acquisition, and he’s enacting capitalist regulations as if we were operating a profit-making Airbnb.
The worst part is that my spouse isn’t a horrible person. Really, no. He and my mother have simply disagreed from the beginning. He told me the truth about how he really felt the night he turned into Mr. Rent Collector. “Ever since I met her, your mother has detested me. She wouldn’t feel at ease living with me right now.
I am therefore torn between my mother, who is in great need of her daughter’s support, and my husband, whom I really love despite his imperfections. I ask you, dear reader, the million-dollar question: What should I do? In true dramatic manner. Shall I rent my mother a room or my husband’s empathy?
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