Life is just a bowl of cherries

I publish this story from Jill every year. The first time was five years ago today.

[Three-year-old] Mack and I picked out some lovely ripe cherries at the market today. We’re going to chop them up put them in homemade ice cream.

At lunch I diced some of them and gave them to [8-month-old] Aidan.

He grabbed a couple and stuffed them in his mouth. Immediately, his eyes shot to me with an expression that perfectly conveyed two thoughts:

“My God, but I do love you, woman.”

and

“Exactly what else have you been keeping from me?”

2 thoughts on “Life is just a bowl of cherries”

  1. That’s because a wonderfully ripe, plump, cherry so juicy it runs down your chin (I like dark purple bings the best) is the best food in the whole wide world–ambrosia of the gods, to be sure! And the little tyke knew it at first bite, just like his Grand Aunt Debby.

  2. I say bring him out to the Pacific Northwest this fall and let him try a fresh-picked huckleberry.

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