Or something like that. Face it. Without women who dedicate themselves in every facet of life, the world would be a sorry place. I cite my recent Sunday lunch. Hubby and I went to an Indian Taco fundraiser for my grandson's volunteer fire station. The minute I got out of the car, an aroma of deep-fried tacos wrapped itself around my nostrils and whispered, "Betcha can't eat just one." Because of the 6-inch high 3-layer Italian cream cake I grabbed before it disappeared from the dessert table, I lost that bet.
As I passed the assembly line for tacos, I noticed two women at a counter. Their hands were fast and furiously rolling, patting, and flattening doughballs and handing them to the fellas who took them outside to deep-fry. A waft of pride filled my heart as I considered all that women do to support men and the work they do as volunteers in our community. I marveled at the two tables filled with baked goods for the auction. A humming-bird cake brought eighty-dollars and a pumpkin roll brought fifty.
Women. They made those goods. Women. They rolled the tacos. Just gotta love the acts of service they perform. Not to minimize the men who fight the fires. They are a brave sort--wild at heart. They love to risk life and limb to save forests, homes and people trapped inside flaming buildings. But I tell ya what. Those guys just love it when they're dog-tired, blackened by soot, and a lady hands them a fried apple pie. It's those hands that roll out pie crusts, and flatten tacos, that rule the real world. I'm just saying. selahV
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