Blackberry Greed
Before blackberries meant a phone they were a fruit (kids take note), a tasty fruit made better with a sprinkle of sugar. So as it was I had spent a sunday morning with the parents picking these tasty little fuckers.

We drove home and I was clutching my little bucket of them in the back of the car, agreeing with my mam that I should wash them before I ate them (as I munched through several).

I was about 8 and it was nice and sunny so I got my little plastic chair and mosey'd into the front garden. Everyone was playing out and soon their attention turned to me, swinging on the back legs of my little blue seat, feeding myself.

"whats that?"
"can we have some?"
"aw please?"

The remonstrations rained down on me, but I remained steadfast, and kept them to myself.

It was when my friends had given up and gone to play baseball misfortune struck. Literally, in the chops. A stray ball was sent my way, knocking me backwards and emptying the contents of my little bucket all over my bart simpson "dont have a cow man" t-shirt and face.

I was stained by the juice and my t-shirt was never the same, I only had to go to school the next day slightly purple.

Im not sure what I cried more over, the pain or the loss
(Monkeystrumpet monkey. Monkey, MONKEY!!!, Wed 20 Apr 2011, 14:30, Reply)