Strawberry Eating

Chris' response to this picture text was that it was the least cute photo of Ryan ever ... but I don't know the rogue eyebrow + smile with extra cheese gets me
I would title this post Strawberry Picking, but let's be honest, more strawberries were eaten than were picked. Last Wednesday, my sweet friend, Lauren, invited Ryan and to head up to Michigan to a U-pick farm. Umm, yes! Her little boy, Carson is only three months older than Ryan, and I would say that he is one of Ryan's best friends. My litmus test for that is if Ryan can say someone's name, and he has Carson's name down pat. 

I'm very thankful that I have friends like Lauren who are not only amazingly fun to hang out with, but are go-getters and look up where strawberry farms are because we are four and a half hours away from my dad's little strawberry patch, and the country girl in me just feels sad when I know Ryan can't just go out, pluck a berry and pop it in his mouth.

The strawberries were sparse since it was the end of the season, but we (Lauren and I) managed to pick about six pounds each. I don't know about Lauren's household, but all of mine were gone by 10pm that night. Oops. 

A white shirt was a brilliant idea.

The scene 93% of the time. The rest was 5% playing with the sprinkler and 2% picking. 
Strawberry success!