Never let it be said that I don't do things for my wife and children that I don't personally enjoy.
Strawberries, for instance. I don't know, but I've never liked them. Can't stand them, really. Still, Natasha and the girls love them and love to eat them. We buy them constantly at the supermarket, usually when they're on sale but often when they're not.
Well, last year I bought two strawberry plants and put them in our garden out front. Over the course of the summer, the plants multiplied and spread and assumed control of about half the admittedly small garden. Once strawberry season hit this year, the plants began churning out the fruits at a steady clip. Every day for the past week-and-a-half, I've gone out in the morning and picked off a half-dozen or more strawberries for the three of them to split.
Yesterday, Evangeline gave me the highest compliment a home gardener can
get from his child. She said: "These are even better than the strawberries we buy at the store!"
get from his child. She said: "These are even better than the strawberries we buy at the store!"
She gets it. She really gets it. Home-grown produce is the best sort. Even if -- and I absolutely mean this -- even if it's not the sort of produce you like to eat yourself.
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