This morning was beautiful weather for picking strawberries. Humidity is low, there is a small breeze, and word on the street is that this is the best strawberry season this area has had in years!
I decided to take the kids to our local berry farm. We donned our sunglasses and sunscreen and headed out.
There was a (poor) woman picking across from us. Here's a snippet of what she heard...
Child 1: Mom, is this a good one?
Child 2: Hey! I'm carrying the basket!
Child 1: Mom, is this one ripe enough?
Child 3: sluurrrp. mmmm. juicy.
Child 2: I'm picking more berries than you are! Nyah nyah!
Child 1: ew! There's an ant in the strawberry basket! (Tries to step on ant.)
Child 2: I'm the fastest picker in this whole field!
Child 3: lick. slurrp. chew.
Child 1: It's hot out here.
Child 2: My strawberries are bigger than your strawberries!
Child 3: CHOMP
Child 1: I'm thirsty.
Child 2: Cmon! You're picking too slow!
Child 1: I'm still thirsty!
Child 3: veesh shtrwberries ahr sho yummy. slurp.
Child 2: I think my strawberry basket has the most!
Child 1: I'm SO thirsty! Do you hear me? I'M THIRSTY! I. AM. THIRSTEEEEEEE!
I looked across the strawberry row at the woman who so cheerfully commented about how having the children here would "make the picking go so much faster."
"There's the alarm!" I joked. And we made our way out of the row.
At the counter where we weighed the strawberries, the conversation went more like this:
Clerk To Child 3: Wow! I don't think I've ever seen such a pink face!
Child 3: I like purple. I like pink.
Child 2: See? This is my basket. It has the most! I bet it will cost 25 bucks for all these berries!
Child 3: (with a pitiful look) I could use a glass of nice, cold milk.
And once we were home, they had been transformed back to their normal summer selves. The only sound to be heard?
Child 1, 2, 3: Slurrrp. Smack. Mmmm. Yum. Slurp. Juicy! These are sosooo good!
Thanks, Mom.
Midwest Mom
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