Red-Handed

Mennonite Wanna-Be that I am, I spent the morning putting up pears and the afternoon in the backyard shucking dozens of corn cobs for freezing. My mind was on my sweet boys who have quite a fondness for the sweet yellow rows. My reverie was interrupted for just a moment or two while I ran to retrieve a ball that the boys had (somewhat strategically???) tossed behind the house, out of my line of vision.

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When I returned, both boys had mysteriously vanished. Panic set in as I scanned the perimeter of the fence as one boy likes to crawl under it and one climb over. I didn't have to look long before I found them, looking innocent as two white doves, sitting on the back step mowing down on two completely raw cobs of corn filched from my freezer bag stash. Little monkeys. I couldn't work up even a little frustration at their thieving shenanigans in the face of those corn juice splattered lips. All I could seem to work up was a desire to grab the camera. Motherhood is made for moments like this.