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By Lara
One of the many things that I love about Beth is how she makes me aspire to excellence. Literally. She forces me. Sometimes she uses a sharp stick. Sometimes she tells me over the phone about the funny article that she has written about our pretzel making adventure.
Even if this article isn't as funny as hers, (and it won't be, I'm sure) I will at least be able to defend myself.
I made pretzels for the first time as a child. My grandmother had given my parents a recipe for soft pretzels, and my father thought it would be a good activity to introduce at the church Halloween party. Dad told me that I could be his helper. Being an only child in the home of a minister, I had already learned that being "helper" meant doing a lot of the work so other people could enjoy themselves. Making pretzels, however, was the exception.
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