Last week, we went berry picking for the first time. One would think that it had all of the right ingredients for a happy afternoon to share with a two-year-old. You have an open field, berries to eat, and friends nearby. Not so. It was a gripe fest through and through. Still, I got this cute picture of the little man with our boxes (which had only two dozen strawberries after an hour of picking).
To my surprise, we eventually left with three heaping trays of juicy Michigan strawberries for jam. I owe it all to a friend with a minivan with a DVD player. So much for quality time with the little man. Sidenote: he's since been pointing to the overhead light of our 1997 Jeep Cherokee and saying, "Is THAT a TV? I wanna watch a movie. I wanna new car." But back to the jam.
This wasn't your everyday jam. You're talking personally picked, strongly smushed, sweetly sugared, prayerfully pectin(ated), joyfully jarred Jam. Which I now like to call my very own "Wham, Bam, Thank-you Jam." The perfect thing to have on hand when a simple thank-you won't do. What can I say? I'm all about branding. And eating jam, as of late.
And thanks to this jam, breakfast is so much sweeter these days. As is my two-year-old.
I need to find something to do for you so *I* get some wham, bam, thank you jam.
ReplyDeleteBest. Name. Ever.