|Brennan's first time picking strawberries at 15 months old.|
As kids, we were dragged along on the picking trips. I remember being bored to tears after just a few minutes, but somehow it seemed worth it once we were eating fresh strawberries, strawberry shortcake, strawberry pie, and Mom's famous homemade strawberry jam. Lucky for me, Brennan did wonderfully during his first time strawberry picking last year!
Anyway, back to the story... One time, way back when, my Dad and my Grandpa Lou went to pick some berries. Let me paint you the picture- They are each in their own row, minding their own business and picking away. Just then, my Grandpa, always a trouble maker, spots a big, slightly overripe and extremely juicy strawberry. Instead of putting it in his box or dropping it aside he knows just where he wants that berry to land. Target: my Dad. Just as he pops his head up over his row of strawberries to send his trophy strawberry flying at his unsuspecting victim- SPLAT! He takes a strawberry right between the eyes! My Dad had beat him to the punch! As the sticky, red juice from the strawberry caught in the bridge of his glasses drips and runs down down his face and onto his pastel yellow shirt, he yells across the rows at my Dad, "YOU ASS!" An older lady picking between them looks up, shocked at the name that she thinks she's just been called, as my Dad hides behind his row of strawberries!
I guess the moral of the story is this: Always keep a keen eye on the skies. You never know when a strawberry might just come whizzing by!