what I lack in planning skilz I make up for in cake eating skilz

Ever since we got married back in ye olden days of 2011 I've been trying to go strawberry picking as a family. I don't know why we didn't go the first two summers, but I was sure last year would be The Year. It ended up not being The Year because I didn't watch the calendar and all the strawberries were gone when we had a free day. Hoping that a fourth try would bring better luck than the previous three years, I did research and rallied the big one and the small one for a morning at the strawberry patch on Saturday.

We had a slight setback before we even left the house because Annabelle's shirt was too low. She's not even nine weeks old and her cute polka dot shirt with the little beaded spaghetti straps WAS TOO REVEALING. Christopher said no daughter of his would go out in public like that so I had to sew it. We're in for a long wardrobe journey if it's starting already.

In a streak of brilliance I called the farm to be sure they had plenty of strawberries to pick before we left the house. They did not. I was told that not only was their proverbial strawberry well dry, the wells of the other farms in the area were dry as well. There was not a strawberry to be found. It was like the time we went to Washington DC for the cherry blossom festival but we didn't see any cherry blossoms. And the time I took Zachary and Molly to the petting zoo but we couldn't pet the animals. I have impeccable timing and event planning skilz.  

Since I wouldn't be spending the afternoon making strawberry jelly like I planned, we took Annabelle to the library. Christopher read her Moby Dick for Children because apparently we don't believe in reading See Spot Run in our family. 

I refused to read her You're Going to Have a Baby Brother! because SHE IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT ANY TIME SOON. My uterus needs a break. 

It's worth noting that I ate 1/3 of my birthday cake over the weekend. I was going to go to zumba but why do that when I can burn just as many calories moving the fork to my mouth?