Madeline was so excited, filling her bucket with enthusiasm and gusto. "Daddy, there are more over here!" she would shriek, so Rob would run over to her side. They were berry-picking buddies and I just loved her pride as she would hold up an especially big or red one for us to see.
Charlie filled a good portion of his bucket too...until he realized how good the fruit tasted. Then he ran out of the patch, crouched under a shady tree and ate every single berry he had picked for the previous 30 minutes. Juice was streaming down his wrists, elbows and chin. When the last berry was eaten, he contentedly said, "I all done." Then (no joke), laid down in the grass, folded his hands behind his head and popped his knee. I asked the farmer's wife to ring us up for an extra pound when we checked out in the barn. It reminded me of a story I've heard about myself as far back as my memories go about eating myself sick in a strawberry patch when I was Madeline's age.
We came home with a six foot tomato plant, two beach ball size heads of lettuce (we waited while the farmer plucked them out of the ground) and two cucumber plants (we actually thought we were buying cucumbers themselves. I later found them "planted" by little hands in our flower bed, roots half in and out of the ground, lying on their sides). 
Every night at dinner, the kids chant in a sing-song voice, "Thank you Mommy for this delicious dinner" -- a sweet tradition that Rob began with Madeline starting probably a year ago. Yesterday, as we drove home, we heard Charlie say from the back seat, "Thank you for these delicious vegetables." But Madeline, who interprets Charlie-speak for me, was sure he was actually thanking us for turtles.Whether he was grateful for the vegetables, strawberries or turtles, I cherished the morning we spent together.
1 comment:
First off, awesome hat Meg. Secondly, can I come next time????
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