Fresh On The Vine

The Good Doctor was outside power sawing the bottom off of our Christmas tree when I hear, "VICKY!!! Did you give Emmy a strawberry? WHAT IS SHE EATING? (then muffled) Emmy, open your mouth. Open it."

And then back to me, "I think you have a blob post."

I was supposed to be watching Emmy since Dada was operating powerful and dangerous hand tools but I was busy glazing 72 mini rum cupcakes that unbeknownst to me were going to be frowned upon as they sat lonely and untasted next to piles of professionally created truffles and artisanal pastries. Lance. You didn't warn me I was going to be competing with Iron Chef bakers. I wouldn't have burned out the lamp in my Easy Bake oven.

Anyway, I run out to see what poisonous berry my child has just ingested while her parents were so determined to get into the holiday spirit. But first, I grab the camera because I have this blob to maintain, and the lens is mightier than the written re-hash without pictures.

Yes, this is my barefoot Emmy squatting outside in December, hoisting up a strawberry still attached to the vine and taking a nice big bite. But only the red tip. My baby eats the good parts only. Just like Mama taught her.

Then she let the rest of the white berry dangle back down, all satisfied with herself. Strawberry tips nibbled while they're still live on the vine. Does it get any fresher than that?

Asian Grandma was horrified when we told her the plant had been defiled this way. She was even more displeased with the bare feet outside. That's what happens when you leave for the weekend Asian Grandma. Parental debauchery and mayhem! Babies eating live plants! Without wearing hats or socks! Outside! Ahhhhh!