You Say Tomato

Okay, I may be prejudiced, but I have an exceptional granddaughter. Well, I actually have two, but this time I'm referring to Cassidy. She constantly amazes me with her vocabulary, her humor, and her imagination.

Darrell has been trying to grow tomatoes in pots this summer. Not too successfully for us, but very successful for the caterpillars. Anyway, Cassidy (who could also be referred to as Amelia Bedelia) was watering the tomatoes earlier tonight. Instead of pouring the water into the pot, she actually watered each individual tomato. When I tried to explain to water the dirt, she poured the water on a patch of lawn with sparse grass.

Of course, one of the tomatoes came off in her hand as she watered. She decided she had a new friend. I showed her how the green stuff at the top looked like hair and then we drew a face on the tomato. Or as she called it Ma-Tate-O. She played with this golf ball sized tomato the rest of the evening. Even took a bath with it. And ate dinner with it. After all this, plus prematurely losing its hair due to some rough play, Ma-Tate-O wasn't in too good a shape. Ma-Tate-O was tenderly and surreptitiously put to sleep by Beeba while Grandpa distracted our little sweetheart.