My mom gardens, and can she grow things! This summer, she planted a row of zucchinis (or is it a vine? whatever). Some of them were large and slightly mutant looking. One of them became a part of the family.
Meet Meg's zucchini baby.
She carried it around like this for days. The girl would wake up in the morning, enter the kitchen and loudly demand, "where's my zucchini baby?"
Sadly, baby passed on. She was sacrificed to the yummy bread-making powers that be (in other words, Grandma stole her and chopped her up to make a loaf...poor baby).
No one really liked the zucchini bread. Except Meg, that is. Eating her fourth or fifth slice, it occurred to her to ask me what kind of bread this was. I hesitated. This situation had the potential to go very badly... Believing that, ultimately, honesty is best, I coughed and mumbled that it was (ahem) "zucchini bread."
Meg stopped chewing and looked at me, big brown eyes widening in...was it shock? horror? anger? devastation?... Laughter! "It's zucchini BABY bread, Mom! Mmmmmm, I love my zucchini baby."
Phew. That was a close one.
haha wow. i was afraid it would end like when i asked my grandfather where my one eyed pig was over a fine dinner of pork roast.
ReplyDeleteHa, ha, ha...reincarnation! Zucchini baby was reborn as bread, and the story had a happy ending!
ReplyDeleteDon't feel bad. My husband and his brother had pet bunnies when they were little. Their grandpa lived with them, and he was from the "old country" (ie, Italy)--and in the "old country," bunnies were food.
The rabbits disappeared one day. It was years and years before Mike and his brother realized that wasn't chicken they'd had for dinner!
My beautiful Megan - I love you sooooo much!
ReplyDeleteGrandma
My beautiful daughter Tyler - you really need to learn something about gardening. It was one zuchini plant - not a row.
Mom