I took the girls over to the park today for some playtime, but didn't bring the camera. When I got there I saw a cluster of 6 or 7 police cars on the trail, and several cops standing around talking. One was walking through the area taking photographs. It was like I had stumbled upon the opening of an episode of CSI. I'm not sure what happened there, but I'm pretty sure I don't want it happening near any playgrounds my girls are in!When we were leaving Catherine demonstrated her long-term memory for perhaps the first time. We were walking along a part of the path where several mulberry trees bear fruit. Last summer I had given the girls ripe mulberries there several times. Right at that part of the path, Catherine looked up and asked for "Strawberries? Strawberries?" I was pretty amazed that a not-quite-three-year-old could remember eating fruit there 9 or 10 months ago! I had to disappoint her and tell her that they wouldn't be ready for a long time!
5 comments:
It's a natural instinct:
Food = Survival
BERRIES = TASTY delicious survival!
:-)
When I was growing up in Kentucky, there was a grove of mulberry trees around the corner from my front door. When I was 6 or 7 my parents were just grateful that I was out of the house and one of the best ways to spend time was climbing tree. Mulberry trees were my favorite because the branches were low. There was a crotch where I could put my Buster Brown sneaker and push up to the next branch. The bark always crumbled in my grip and I could throw a leg over the branch. The reward was waiting. Sweet, ripe mulberries that stained my mouth, fingers and ever shirt and pants that my mother would let me wear to play in. I didn't care if ther were ripe or not because if they were still green, I could enjoy them crunch in my mouth. The ripe ones were so tender and sweet. No one could see me behind the leaves. My mother called me. I ate a few more. There's no rush to get in for dinner when there's is food at your fingertips and you don't have to wash your hands. Mom called again, this time a little longer and her voice rose a little before it fell. The second refrain of her song was the best. It was the high point because supper was getting close and I was cramming as much as I could because after supper you don't get to go back out. More berries and then drop down. Six feet must have been a record! I didn't hit any small branches on the way down and that's saying something on a mulberry tree which is practically a tall bush. I had to run if didn't want to hear the third refrain of the Graaa-annnt song. My Toughskins would make a crunching, rasping swish as I ran home and met Mom at the door. Just in time!
Thanks, Nancy. You brought it all back.
Amazing what they remember! They must be very tasty for it to stick in her mind. Did she understand when you tried to explain they weren't ripe yet? Or does she look at you like you didn't remember?
That's a *great* story, Grant!
I remember when we were kids going horseback riding and picking them from the branches from the horses, too. Of course the horses tried to eat the branches....
Mojo, to tell the truth, I never know what's going on in their little heads. I tend to think that they don't have any day but today, which is why it surprised me that she remembered!
Did you ever find out what went on at the park? Or maybe you don't want to know...right?
I can almost hear your daughter asking for the "strawberries"...cute.
Another proud moment for mom! :-)
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