Strawberry Fields Forever

Today Mr. C and I took an expedition a couple of towns over to pick strawberries.  I've decided that going to these U-Pick farms is the same as going to a fondue restaurant: you end up paying twice as much to do all the work yourself.  But you're paying for the experience, right?


And it was a fun experience.  We piled onto a tractor-pulled trailer with a bunch of strangers for the ride across a major road to the strawberry fields.  When you have a toddler, that in itself is worth the $6-minimum picking fee.

We spent nearly an hour squatting amidst rows of strawberry plants.  After I'd told Mr. C several times that he needed to pick only the reddest ones, he took to inspecting any strawberries I picked and disdainfully tossing them back to the ground if there were any white tips.  "Only the red ones, Mommy!" my adorable little boy reminded me.  Smart ass.

Since the farm charges guests based on how much they end up picking, I made a big deal of warning Mr. C that we weren't going to eat any strawberries until after they'd been weighed and paid for.  I was very happy to note that Mr. C diligently followed my orders and didn't eat a single strawberry in the field, despite the fact that the extremely nice, always generous Christian friends I was with were stuffing their faces full.  I was, in fact, even happier to see this than I was to see Mr. C not eating: Finally!  Proof those do-gooders are going to hell!

In the end, we spent $9.75 for our outing.  Mr. C has been eating strawberries all afternoon, so I'm sure they'll become the gift that keeps on giving.  I personally don't think the strawberries are that flavorful (damn organic farms!), but, since I'm using them to make strawberry rhubarb jam this week, I'm sure the necessary eight cups of added sugar will add a little bit of flavor.