Misadventures of Bonnie and Clyde:      Strawberry fields forever 

 So I saw an ad fly by on facebook that said, “you pick ’em blueberries & strawberries or we pick ’em blueberries! & strawberries Saturday 8-4″.
That kinda sounded like fun if it t wasn’t 3000 degrees outside because I’d like to make some more homemade blueberry and strawberry sorbet. It was good but tart so I’d like to mess with that recipe to be a tad sweeter. I made a mental note in my head for Saturday.
I was capping strawberries later and felt something on my leg, I look down and my dog has parked himself between me and my kitchen island just waiting for a Few morsel or a crumb to fall, poor dog thinks he’s malnourished and would completely want to eat it heae strawberries leafs and all!! Doesn’t matter where I move yo, he knows food is involved so he’s following me, practicing to be a wedge in the door…

When I accidentally dropped one, I think he moves in faster than a bull in a bull fight, he’s such a pig.

With those words I thought about picking strawberries with my mom when I was a little girl in Michigan. I think she always took me because I loved strawberries so much. I would hear her every now and again “don’t eat too many, you’ll get a belly ache!” “No I won’t!!!” as I stuffed my mouth full!

I was maybe eight and went with her and low and behold i get a bellyache she gave me the keys and sit in the car, I’m almost done. Well, she was taking too long for my liking and when I got out to beg her to leave, I forgot one thing….most right year olds aren’t used to keeping track of car keys I was no different… Big Oopsy! I don’t know if my dad came with the extra keys or the worker there jimmied the door, my mom wasn’t happy, last time I got to to go stuff my face and get sick picking strawberries

That night she made strawberry pies. They weren’t done and I am sure she was tired of my asking “WHEN???” So she sent me to bed and said you can eat a piece of pie for breakfast! Oh Lordy, I remember to this day how excited I was, she was going to let me break the breakfast rule!!! YAHOO! I think I ran to bed

 As soon as my eyes opened, the engine started! I bolted down the hall and down the stairs, even jumping from about the fourth stair or so from the bottom, something my dad always told me not to do. It didn’t matter I was getting strawberry pie with cool whip for breakfast!

Bless her heart, my poor mom walked into what had to look like a Hatfield and McCoy family gathering. I think she had to of heard me crying, I’d say, I was crying quite loudly. I believe when she entered the room I was sitting smack dab on the floor all sprawled out, bawling like a kid who broke their absolutely favorite toy. No, it was worse than that. The kind of cry that you can’t quite make out one single word because the tears prevent one from breathing and you are all huffy and puffy trying your damdest to explain and no one understands you so you just cry more. .

I think my older sister was in the kitchen by this point, she and my mom were both looking shocked as I am crying in the middle of the floor just pointing at my dad. “Oh Jack, you didn’t…..,” she said as she sees the eight year old in the floor as if I am just going to die in a moment.

You see, Dad, whom my sisters boyfriend dubbed “The White Flash, because he wandered at night in his BVD’s. The White Flash had a snacking problem in the middle of the night a lot of the time, and welp, the night before was no different.

Mom had made not one, but two strawberry pies. Not one crumb was left, the cool whip was even gone. My mom was left with a devastated child who could only say “Daddy ate ALL of it, ALL OF THE PIE Mommy!” Stressing the word “All” probably more than I should have. “Daddy is a pig, he ate it ALLLL!!”

It’s a wonder she ever picked stawberries ever again after this episode. I locked the keys in the car, no more picking berries for me andy Dad ate both pies whips we slept, so he essentially vowed right then to not ever eat strawberry pie again. I’m in my 40’s and I was about eight then, he hasn’t had strawberry pie in a heck of a long time now. I think I should get him one tomorrow and extra cool whip!

And maybe this has just prompted me to explain my families problems with potato soup, pop-tarts and the “last bite” of anything!


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