Berry fun

I was determined to take Elle strawberry picking this year. It just seemed like such a quaint, picturesque thing to do, especially for my berry-adoring child who may actually have been cast as Strawberry Shortcake if latter weren't so... well... animated.

But with every attempted picking outing, something came up. It rained. I had to work late. It rained again. Etc. I became convinced of the anti-berry conspiracy when we finally made it to the farm only to find a sign that said "Closed for Irrigation". Seriously?! My suspicions for fraudulent activity were confirmed when we returned the following morning and the Strawberry Workers admitted that there was a family gathering the day before and there wasn't anyone available to staff the crop. I knew it! Irrigation Schmirrigation.

So at last we arrived armed with sunscreen and strict Mom instructions not to eat the berries before they were washed. The big white bucket was bestowed upon us.

And picking commenced. Elle laboriously scrutinized each berry, casting most aside with the disapproving announcement of "Too mushy" or "Too yellow, still needs to grow".

And although I fully expected her to nosh on the pesticide coated fruit the whole time, she never sampled the first one... although she did continuously call out her neighboring pickers for similar offenses. "Mommy, he's EATING one! He didn't wash it first!" Little tattletale.

Her high standards paid off, and I'm convinced we ended up with a bucket of the least mushy, most red and fully grown strawberries in the field.

It must have been that extra irrigation...