Every year we plan to go strawberry picking and then we somehow miss the season. This year I put it on the calendar and me, hubby, the Boy and Grammy headed out to the local farm to pick a big ole box o' berries.
The Boy helped...a little.
Every berry he picked went straight in his mouth.
Then he realized he could avoid that pesky picking task and simply steal them from Hubby's box.
He ate his weight in stolen berries and ruined one Gap shirt in the process.
Still, he was more helpful than I was. I picked zero berries. I'm at the point that if I dropped a $20.00 bill on the ground I would just leave it there and sigh rather than deal with the hassle of attempting to bend over. I'm certainly not going to strain myself physically for fruit. If we went "brownie picking" then perhaps I would put forth a bit of effort, but as it is I could barely see the berries beneath me. Walking through strawberry fields with no view of your feet makes for some messy flip flops.
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