Friday, August 21, 2009

Growing up

My sister and her brood of three spent a few days at Casa Wumpus this week. Her oldest is 11 - ELEVEN! - then eight and five. It makes for a very entertaining and boisterous house full of laughter. Especially when the eight year old boy loves potty humour and the kids are learning the joy of funny words.

So yesterday evening it was no surprise that as we picked the lovely red crab apples in our yard, my nephew starts calling them CRAPapples, and we all end up doubled over laughing.

Ah, to be eight again.

The tree is covered in tart, red apples. Crapapples, that is. It's a favorite of the local deer and raccoons as evidenced by the ample, um, scat, littered under the tree. The husband did pooper scooper duty for us. I don't think he wants a dog anymore.

Not the most happy bunch of cousins...wrangling four kids at the end of a long day and getting them to smile is apparently really hard work.

The bounty! Soon to be made into jelly. Mmmm, crapapple jelly.


Beth said...

The kids look a little worn out after their apple picking. Very cute! Let us know how the jelly turns out. :)

Jennifer P said...

Yum! And good thing my husband isn't around -- he'd just ruin them by adding vodka.