Had to laugh at this post.....about the Mom declaring she didn’t like pie.
During and right after the war, (yep, the “Big One”)my mother would fry a chicken on Sundays. Dad (when home on leave from the Air Force) would eat the thighs, my sisters and I would share the legs and wings, my grandpa would get the breasts. (two breasts? selfish in my opinion) My dear Mother got the back of the chicken. She claimed it was her favorite part of the “gospel bird”.
It took me many years to realize that she was just doing what Mothers do best...........sacrifice.
Wow! My grandma used to do the exact same thing... she said she “liked the part of the chicken that goes over the fence last”.