Tuesday, June 15, 2010

If it's not Daughter, then it's Son (or Me)

How THIS happened:

Tuesday: I just posted yesterday's garden update. Complete with Daughter's squash.

We spent today's garden check pointing out what Daughter calls "baby tomatoes." She counted them. She kept telling me the babies were green and "no touch"

great. perfect. She listens.

Then I spot a RED one. And I lean in to examine it ... ya know, check for bugs/bird bites. I barely swipe it with the back of my hand and ACK. It falls off!

The first 'picked' Juliet. Much much better looking than last year's first Arkansas Traveler.
Then as I'm quickly slipping my picked tomato in my my pocket (so Daughter doesn't see it and get some crazy idea about picking her own tomato) Son comes toddling up to me with three.THREE.THREE green Juliets in his fat little hands.

Son's tomato fist (and blueberry juice stomach)

Here he is putting the tomatoes on the porch.

he enjoyed it. and is not allowed back in the yard for 2 days ... nah. He's allowed in.

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