I’ve Decided Which of You I’m Going to Eat First

It’s happening.


Yesterday it was pasty green, just like the others.  And then last night while I was sleeping: blue.  After weeks of weeding, watering and watching, nature has given me something for a change.  I gasped when I saw it through the kitchen window and rushed around back for a closer look.  I smiled for the first time in days.  I’ll be honest, that one berry made me happier than many more meaningful moments in my life should have.  I did this.

I was soon back inside, however, as I had a boring job to hurry to and a boring 9:30 meeting to prepare for.  The scenario boys from across the hall whipped up some new money projections for me and I had to dig out some of my old textbooks to figure out what the hell they were talking about.  I halfheartedly leafed through a few chapters on fixed income security valuation before sliding the books aside and looking at the picture of my blueberry for ten minutes.

Maybe I’ll put you in a pancake.

I packed a rainbow lunch today and wondered, while eating the blueberries, which sort of blueberry my new berry would be.  There are tart ones, smushy ones, … tart ones.  My store bought berries actually weren’t that bad today, but I knew my berry would be better.  You’ll trump them all, I whispered aloud.

I ran around back when I got home and as I popped my berry off the bush, noticed that another had blued up during the day.  I grabbed that one, too, and hurried inside.  “Mrs. B!” I shouted, “Look!  Blueberries!!”

I handed her one and she dampened the mood.  “Baby, this one is a little green on the bottom.  Are you sure these are ready?  Did you research when to pick blueberries?”

There was no turning back now.

“Did you wash these?”


It was delightful.  Quite possibly the best blueberry I’ve ever had.  I took the time to chew it slowly, to savor it, to imagine it inside a muffin or a cobbler or other fancy things within which you’d put the perfect berry.  I must have closed my eyes because I heard, but did not see, Mrs. B spitting hers into the sink.

Not a little green on the bottom: check.  This is going to be the best summer ever.

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