Oh, apple sauce, how I love thee. You refresh my taste buds of the recently familiar greasy crap taste and remind me of a time when I didn’t understand innuendo. You make me feel like the carefree, sprightly young lass I once was. I will keep you in stock, apple sauce, my darling, for the rest of forever. And you will continue to rejuvenate my palate whenever I’m sick of Mom’s cooking. Thank you, apple sauce, for being left over from Christmas so I could rediscover you.