Now I don't know Connor, but he was in the next aisle over today at the blackberry field and his mother issued the following directives:
1. Don't get the blackberry juice on your shirt or the bees will come (I'm not sure if she was really worried about bees or if she didn't want to OxyClean the white shirt).
2. Don't reach up to pick the blackberries. All the good ones are down low, like you are.
3. Don't pick the red ones. I know you think they look like raspberries, but they aren't.
4. Don't eat more than two blackberries, or you will get sick.
5. Don't just stand there in front of that bush. Look at all the blackberries down the row.
6. CONNOR, WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOWN THE ROW? COME BACK HERE. COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW. CONNOR, I'M SERIOUS.
7. Don't squeeze the blackberries or they will get crushed. Be gentle.
8. Don't throw the blackberries into the basket or they will get crushed. Be gentle.
9. Connor, I said, "DON'T THROW THE BLACKBERRIES IN THE BASKET OR YOU WILL RUIN THEM."
Am I the only person to realize that these were far too many rules for little Connor to follow? I think it worked out for him because it appears that he didn't follow even one of the rules.
When I turned around, Boo Boo Kitty had managed to find the ONLY BRANCH within 5 feet and had it in his mouth. I was pulling leaves out of his mouth for about 30 minutes.
We are now up to a carrot in the supermarket, pizza crust, beer, rice cereal and blackberry branch for food. This kid is screwed.