She was a baby when I first moved here and used to wake me up in the mornings saying, Nilk, Nunny? Nilk? She loved milk.
Fortunately, she's very young at heart, and I can forget she's growing up. She still seems four.
She calls farmers farmists.
You know? That girl... she was wearing those kind of clothes farmists wear... overalls?
We went to Carver's Farms, to celebrate, with a bunch of friends and picked pumpkins and strawberries and beans and cucumbers and corn and flowers.
Then we went to the park to have cupcakes.
Little note to the wise: if you make cupcakes and if you decorate them carefully with gummy bears... don't
put them in the back of Karen's suburban and assume they're safe for the ride to the farm. First, they'll get kinda squashed by the water bottles flying around in the back... second, they'll get mostly squashed by the 100 lbs of pumpkins rolling around in the back... third, they'll get all the way squashed by the same 100 lbs of pumpkins still rolling around in the back. Then your super cute cupcake stand will get broken too. Karen takes corners like James Bond.
Four cupcakes were squashed into one giant cupcake. This story is sad but true.
Fun. Sunshine. Picking stuff. Squashed cupcakes. Lucy caught a fish in her bare hands at the park therefore becoming the official "cool" girl. The colors popped. The kids laughed. I fell asleep in the grass. Wading in the creek. Getting soaked in the creek. Swings. Slides. Talking. Picnic lunch. Bringing flowers home. Giant mud puddles. Sleepy kids on the way home.
Lucy, the girl who caught three fish in her bare hands. She's our child wonder.
It was the perfect day.
Even if my cupcakes did get mutilated...