(plus bonus proof that my kids are all kinds of awesome)
I never ate a fresh pea, right off the vine, until I was an adult. I grew up with a peripheral, suspicious, disdainful relationship with vegetables. There were salad vegetables (assumed mostly for my dad, who can build and eat a salad the size of a breadbox) and there were side dish vegetables, which arrived to the table via their interim life in a Del Monte can. Globs of slimy spinach, Flaccid asparagus (which, it's true, I still sometimes get a craving for, though I haven't indulged in well past a decade), and Mushy peas, too limp to bother rolling off the plate.
It's a stark contrast, then, how my two run outside. How the little one asks me, before he plucks a pod, "is this one fat enough, mama?". How they sit on the front steps, together, dropping the shelled peas into a bowl. How they eat them up by the handful, how they always want more.
So, it's like a triple whammy of wonderfulness here to me. Fresh, delicious veggies in my own yard. My children being sweet and cooperative, a little pea-picking team. Knowing that fond memories, of food and family alike, are being created every day.
3 comments:
Wow! That's a lot of peas. Ours didn't do so well this year.
and that's only the corner trellis! we've got shelling peas all along the south fenceline, too. but they're not quite ready yet. i've had good luck with peas. other stuff? maybe not so much.
OMG, I got all teary-eyed seeing that shirt! Can you believe it's seven years old and has already been through three children? My SIL used it for her boy between Alec and Joe.
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