Strawberry Fields Forever

We went strawberry picking on Saturday, although it was more like strawberry eating for June. Her mouth and hands were streaked red after only a few minutes in the fields. Every time we found a good one - and it wasn't easy, given that the season is almost over - we told her to pick it and put it in the box. She listened to the first half of that statement, then shoved the "whole shing" in her little mouth. Couldn't really blame her - the berries were really good. This is what she told us on the way home in the car:

- How many strawberries did you eat today, June?

- Two.

- Only two?

- Yeah, just two.

That was the last sane conversation in the car. Moments later, she launched into an ear-splitting scream to "Get out!" which lasted all the way home. Arms flailing, tears flowing, complete meltdown in the backseat for the next 15 minutes. Overheated? Exhaustion? Two pounds of strawberries swooshing around in her belly? Probably all of the above. We prefer to remember the happier part of the day frolicking in the fields.