Apple treat

God has a sense of humor. So, yesterday I sent Rich to the grocery store to pick up "fruits and vegetables" for the week.  That was mistake #1 for me.  He came back with exactly one tomato, a cucumber, string beans, corn, zuchinni, lettuce, and one very large cantaloupe. Instead of thank you, I said, "Where's all the fruit?".  He said that everything was too expensive, that bananas were 70 cents a pound, that the apples must've been from California.  Fine (I thought).  Does he realize how much our son loves apples? How much he'll be begging for them all week. It's one measly apple.  He's not asking for a ride to the moon or a trip to Busch Gardens (although he does ask for that sometimes), he just wants a stinkin' apple. 

Two hours later, after dinner, after the nightly summer walk, after the bath, the pajamas and bedtime stories, James comes creeping downstairs to give me a kiss goodnight (while I'm doing dishes, I didn't want you to think I was relaxing) and also to ask me if he could have an apple before bed.  I sort of giggle and say, "You'll have to ask your dad about that".  He ran back upstairs and I didn't hear any conversation about apples, but I was thinking, "My husband is such a tight wad.  He can't even provide apples for us. He thinks they're a novelty. Untouchable.  A treat."  Little did I know God had bigger plans to show me just how much He cares about me and my family and a little boy's desire for...apples (and a trampoline...but that's another story).

Fast forward to the next morning.  I got up early to meet my friends at the Botanical Gardens for a walk and a frolic in the fountains.  It was so incredibly hot I started melting like an ice cube.  I had perpetual dew all over my upper lip.  I can't believe my friends let me walk around like that. When I checked in the bathroom mirror, I looked like a sweaty old man who had just harvested the fields.

Anyway, my son disappeared up the hill with his friends to check out the "other side". He's an explorer of sorts, and now I'm realizing he will maybe find lost treasure in his lifetime.  And then....here he comes over the hill with treasure.  A grin on his face and an armful of apples is what he carries. They're rolling down the hill after him and he's running to my carriage dumping them in the under basket, squealing with delight over his newly found booty.  As I crept up the hill to discover the apple tree just beyond our view, I took a picture of my son and his friends hoarding and gorging on apples and of course, promptly sent it to my husband.  I sort of just smiled and was gently reminded of God's provision for our family.  He really does care about the smallest of things, doesn't he?

They have worm holes and were deemed possibly uneatable by the staff.  They're wrong. These are the best we've ever tasted.