Sweet pea love

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood when your son is a willing an ardent helper in the garden.   Today it’s sweet sugar snap peas — my first endeavor in the pea family after my horrible failure with the English peas.   (Still don’t know what went wrong with those gems, but they never blossomed to fruition.)   I guess the old saying is true; you can start out with everything going for you — nutrients, nourishment, love and excitement — and still manage to miss the blossom train.  

Sad.   But true.   I haven’t given up on them.   Hope renews and we’ll try again!  Just not any time soon.

In the meantime, there’s the snap pea.  For a while there, I thought they were goners in the major unexpected and unwelcome freeze of January, but I was wrong.  These delicate beauties are more hardy than first glance would imply.  Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to judge a book by its cover?

Mine did and she was right.   These gals made it through and have now begun to produce!   Beautiful plump pods bursting with sugary peas you simply have to taste to believe.  Which I did, right there in the middle of the row, plopped the first sample straightaway into my mouth.   And it was good.  I see why they’re called sugar snap peas, because they truly taste like sugar ripened green peas! 

My first thought:  the kids will LOVE these. 

So, it made sense that when my son and I were finishing the final row of weeding I’d introduce him to the sugary sweet delights.  “Hey, buddy!  Come have a taste of the sugar snaps!”

Somewhat the adventurous type – like myself – he didn’t hesitate.  “Do they really taste like sugar?”

“You bet,” I replied, never more sure of anything in my life.  “You’ll love them.”

Trusting as any young boy should be when it comes to his mother’s advice, he opened the fresh pod in preparation for his first bite.

“These arent’ like Limas.  You don’t have to peel it open, you can eat it whole!” I told him, eager to get his response.

But he would have none of it.  This was my boy – a little man!  He was going to do it his way or no way.  (A sentiment I’ve come to realize is common in most males.)  Patiently, I waited as he dipped the first pea into his mouth.  Then he frowned, and my heart plummeted.  “What’s wrong?  You don’t like it?”

“No.  Not really.”

“But it tastes like sugar.”

“Mom, kids and adults have different tastes.”

“They do?”  I marveled at his mature insight.  He is only seven.  “How so?”

“You know, like how Daddy likes to have a beer and you like wine.  I don’t like either of those, but you do.”

Out of the mouths of babes.  Chagrin.  “Yes, well, you have me there…” 

“It’s okay.  I don’t hate them.”

Yahoo — a green with hopes of still making it on the menu.  “It’s okay, honey.  You don’t have to like them.”

He peeled the pod clear open and asked, “Want to take a picture?”

Is he in charge of marketing, or what?  Tucking my pride back into place, I replied, “Sure.  But I don’t have my camera with me.  Will you run to the house and get it?”

He brightened at the trust in his command and exclaimed,  “Yes!  Want to see how fast I can make it?”

I laughed.  “Of course I do.”  Ever the boy!   

To his word, he ran as fast as he could to the house and back, plucking a new pod from the vine and posing for pictures.

You gotta love em!

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