Little Grazers

Getting in trouble with their mama

I went for a walk with my granddaughters the other day. It is the seven-year-old who always asks me to go for a walk with them. They are not allowed to go walking through the neighborhood without adult supervision so I am like a walking ticket for her. She is a very outdoorsy kind of girl. No matter the weather, she could spend all day out-of-doors.

Her ten-year-old sister would rather spend all day indoors. So going for a walk was always a matter of convincing her to come along.

It was rather hot; probably close to or in triple digits (Fahrenheit). The ten-year-old immediately started complaining about the heat but the seven-year-old didn’t even seem to notice.

We had only walked a block and a half when I spotted a mulberry tree growing next to the sidewalk. Oh yippee! I thought. This was an opportunity to teach my granddaughters about mulberries — something they were not likely to learn about from their parents.

I stopped and pointed at the tree, “Girls, do you know what this is?”

“It’s a tree Duh!” said the ten-year-old.

“It’s not just any tree. It’s a mulberry tree,” I pointed at a low branch. “See these purple/black berries? These are mulberries. Not only are they delightfully delicious but they are chock-full of vitamins. They’re very good for you.”

I then plopped three berries off the branch, giving one to each granddaughter and plopping one into my mouth. The seven-year-old immediately ate hers and her face lit up with joy. I picked a few more for her.

Turning to the older granddaughter I saw that she still had the berry in her hand. As she stared at it she asked, “Are you sure we can eat these?”

“Of course. I eat some every time I see a mulberry tree. Like I said, they taste great and are very healthy.”

Finally, she plopped it into her mouth. “Yeah, it’s okay,” she said in a matter of fact tone. I picked some more for her.

“I want more vitamins! I want more vitamins!”

I turned to see the seven-year-old jumping with outstretched arms. Sadly, she was too short to reach a branch. I pulled a low-hanging branch down and told her to hold the branch down with one hand and then she could pick the berries with her other hand. She began speed grazing, plopping berry after berry into her mouth.

“Grandpa?”

I turned to the ten-year-old, “Yes?”

“These berries are turning my hands purple.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that. The purple juice from the berries stains everything purple that it touches. See the sidewalk under the tree? It’s purple. So whatever you girls do, don’t wipe your hands on your clothes!”

“Are my hands going to be purple forever?”

“No, you can get it off your hands by licking it off.”

The ten-year-old began furiously licking her hands like a cat. She also quickly moved off the part of the sidewalk that was purple. Turning to the seven-year-old I saw that she had stripped that branch of all its berries.

“I want more vitamins!”

“Okay, just a few more then we’re going to have to go right back home to wash up.”

“Can we bring some vitamins home for Mommy when she gets home from work?”

“They’re call mulberries. The vitamins are inside the mulberries. And I didn’t bring anything to carry the berries in.”

“I can carry them,” she cupped the palms of her hands together to form a little bowl.

“Well, okay. A few. But remember, don’t touch your hands to your clothes. I’ll pick a few more then we’ll go straight home so we can wash up, okay?”

“Okay.”

As she smiled I could see that her teeth and tongue were purple and there was purple all around her mouth.

As we got back to the girls’ house they were about to open the door when I interjected, “Wait! I’ll open the door. We don’t want to get purple all over the doorknob. Now once inside do NOT touch anything! Go straight to the sink and wash up.”

That’s when I noticed that the younger girl no longer had any mulberries in her hand. “What happened to the mulberries you were bringing home for your mother?”

“Whoops. I guess I must have eaten them.”

When they were done washing they showed me their hands and faces and there was no more purple. But when the seven-year-old smiled I saw that her teeth and tongue were still quite purple.

And then I noticed that there were a few purple fingerprints on her t-shirt.

That is when I knew that I would get in deep trouble with her mama.

Copyright by White Feather. All Right Reserved.

Speaking of mulberries…