I'm Not the Only One

I love strawberries. I mean, a lot. For years, I never bought them, because my husband doesn't care for them much (which is MarkSpeak for "I won't touch it unless I'm being polite."). It's a weird reason, because you would think I might buy them and say, "Well, more for me, then!" 

But that's a topic for another day. I buy strawberries now. Whenever I can. 

I buy strawberries from the store because we do not have a strawberry patch. We used to, but then we moved. And it's OK. Even if we did have a strawberry patch, they would most likely never make it to my kitchen, let alone into anything yummy and planned in advance. I have to hide the strawberries if I want to actually use them in a recipe, otherwise I might walk into the kitchen and see something like this: 

Here you have George, unashamedly eating "wahbahbees" to his little heart's content.

Yeah, we're still potty-training. Isn't it obvious? Move over, kiddo, and let me have a couple.