Last week when we got back from OC, I still had a couple days off of work so it was a great weekday opportunity to take Jack strawberry picking.
I mean, that is a total ‘me’ thing to do… find an outdoor activity that would result in an exhausted child AND a huge vat of yummy berries. So, we hopped in the car and drove 15 minutes to our favorite local pick-your-own farm.
Here’s how it would go in my imaginary world: Both Jack and I would be harmoniously skipping through the fields, filling up our baskets as we went. Every so often, we’d happily giggle at each other and he’d tell me what a wonderful mother I am for taking him on our little excursion. After we filled our baskets, we’d return to the farm’s market for homemade ice cream and hold hands while we ate.
Here’s how it went in real life: Apparently I hadn’t gone outside that day, because it was NINETY-some degrees. We rode a tractor-train type thing to the strawberry picking area, so by time we got there we were both covered in dirt and rivers of sweat. In the field, Jack was more interested in eating every single strawberry he picked and then stealing the biggest, juiciest ones out of my basket. Within about 20 minutes he was kind of over the whole thing, so I raced around filling my basket so we could leave.
Then, in the middle of the HUGE strawberry field Jack decided that he REALLY had to pee right that second and started pulling his pants down to tinkle on a nearby strawberry bush. I did some kind of slow-motion move where I dove over to him and yanked his pants up while shouting “NooooOOOOOOO!” Then, I grabbed my 34 pound kid, 2 strawberry baskets, and my purse (which for some reason weighs 80 pounds) and tripped over every stinking strawberry bush trying to get to the porti-pot that was like 8 miles away. Okay, maybe it was a half mile. Or 100 feet. I’m not quite sure, it was all a blur. Afterwards, we rode the tractor back to the farm’s market and ate homemade ice cream. There may have been some hand holding.
So yeah, it pretty much went according to plan.
Okay, really… as any parent will tell you, that was pretty much a freaking perfect day when you have a 3 year old. It was dirty, sweaty, delicious and fun… and I kind of want to do it again this weekend!
Have you gone strawberry picking? Did the experience live up to your expectations?