So many cherries to pick, so little time. Maybe he was just being lazy. Maybe he had no standards. Who’d knew?
In any case he needed a ladder or at least a leg up. Someone’s leg, going all the way up… To get there he needed to stretch his arm, just a little further, just a little closer.
All he wanted was a little taste, he would not have to eat them all right away.
Right? He could almost touch them. Ripe for the plucking.
‘Those are poisonous, you idiot’.
He knew he should have never brought his nerdy friends along. They would cherry-block him forever with their criticism and snarky comments. They would make him look bad. This was going to be a fruitless attempt. Juice it would be tonight. Cherry juice.
Baby salads. Baby greens. Look at those cute red curls, look at those innocent green eyes.
I feel like probably every young parent must feel: ‘How da f*ck do I keep these alive?, Who decided I am allowed to be in charge of something living?’How am I ever going to afford tuition for all of them? Where do I get a decent nanny? I suck as a parent, that is evident. All I wanted was a one night salad. And now I am stuck with this. Set up by that vegan girl.
‘How da f*ck do I keep these alive?, Who decided I am allowed to be in charge of something living?’
Besides, this feels like eating veal or lamb, I am not equipped to be confronted with the real world of vegetarianism. Those cruel ways salads are grown and fattened, in small cages.
I just want to buy one that is all grown up, mature. One I can chop up into a ceasar salad without the nightmares of teary leaves waving goodbye to their moms. This isn’t working at all.
Carrots, I am switching to carrots from now on. And I’ll wear rubber gloves when I touch them, just to be sure.
Figured having brunch as planned with only strawberries for their vitamin C would be racist, sexist or even interpreted as socialist (you never know nowadays with the internet and irony). So I threw in blueberries for their color. Just to be safe…
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