Aaron loves raspberries, probably more than any other fruit/berry. So, he was excited by the idea of eating fresh ones, and I was hoping to get just enough to make some jam, or at least put over vanilla ice cream.
... The boys, on the other hand, thought it was "cruel and unusual" punishment, and that they were way too young to be subjected to such tortuous practices. (I distinctly remember being 4 and spending all morning in the fields at my grandparent's farm with the other grandkids picking raspberries and strawberries and the like - so at 5 1/2, Alex is definitely NOT too young to help for 5 minutes. - MUCH discussion was held on the topic while were were there.) In Harrison's defense, the prickly thorns were just at his eye level, so I can at least understand some of his displeasure.
Alex "occupied" himself with tickling everyone ...
... and everyTHING in sight.
Eventually Harrison led the mutiny. He ran down the row, and "disappeared" into the parking lot. Alex wasn't too far behind, and Aaron went to "check on them."
Apparently "stone picking" really makes one thirsty.
And at least they could SEE where I was.... (You can see that since it's the end of the season, they stopped mowing in between rows, and the weeds were beginning to creep back in...) Alex and daddy had a nice conversation about camaflouge while they were in the parking lot.
Eventually, I put my foot down, and told Alex that we weren't leaving until he picked some. Begrudgingly (and quite vocally) he started helping. I think he picked five.
Daddy and Harrison (who were sooooo ready for dinner) finally got in the action so we could finish off the two pints.
Ahhh. These are the REALISTIC memories we all have of family outings. Next summer when we go back to pick more raspberries (and blueberries, blackberries and strawberries), hopefully it will be a more congenial trip. ... Or maybe I'll get a babysitter and leave the kids at home. We'll see. *grin*