Primal and sexy

aphrodisiac envelops

desires your lushness

red face flushed

in crimson guilt

imbibe silky juices

sweet and slow

tasting erotic splashes

of lust

juicy plump bosom

dripping passion

clandestine meeting

steamy cheeks

peeking

embraced on tongue

rivulets running

down chin

caressing

blushed curves

aromatic blood rush

drizzled erotica

crimson guilt

ripe tomato

on my tongue.

No rotten apples or things going bananas! 

All eyes on you potato! Lookin' sharp ;)

A tomato by any other name would smell as sweet, and they have been a veggie since 1893 during Nix v. Hedden. A unanimous court decision said they made the cut! 

But peaches won't because they are defined botanically and not, in the special way the ta-mat-toe is. It is the exception to the rule!

Broccoli is cool as is it's cousin cauliflower, I like to roast it till I've blackened it's little veggie soul and douse it in herbed butter and devour it before it's cold...... 

But it ain't pretty when me an vegetables meet, I introduce them to meat and shit gets a little salty after that...

But vegetables are beautiful, 

I find that a fact.

“Hi Grandma!” the kids shouted as they came through the door.

She bent down and gave the three a group hug, snowsuits and all. “I’m so happy you’re here! Now let’s get those coats off. Nikki, let me help you with your boots. You look like you’re going to twist your ankle.”

“Grandma what about me?” called Leah. “My arm is stuck!”

“I can help you dear,” said their mom, who had come in the door behind them.

“No, I want Grandma to help!”

Mom turned to look at Grandma and said, “Are you sure you want these kids for the whole day? They can be quite a handful.”

“Of course! I raised you, didn’t I? I can handle these three for a day.” Mom returned Grandma’s teasing smile with a look of chagrin. Then she bent down and kissed each of her kids, having to wrestled Alex, the oldest, to do so.

“You kids be good for Grandma!” Mom called after the children as they raced away into the house.

“Don’t worry about us,” said Grandma. “You have a wonderful day.”

After Mom left, Grandma corralled the kids into the kitchen. “I have a fun project for us today. Can you guess what it is?” She helped Nikki onto a stool while Leah and Alex seated themselves.

“Easter eggs!” said Nikki.

“Mom told us already. But where are the eggs?” asked Leah in dismay. “And the colors? This looks like cooking!” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. On the island in front of the kids were an array of pots and vegetables.

“Are we making… Borscht?” asked Alex tentatively.

“What?” asked Grandma, her eyes wide.

“Well, there’s beet, and cabbage, and onion. That’s what you use to make Borscht.”

“And how does my fourth-grader know how to make this soup?”

“I had Russia for culture day last year. I even made the soup for my class to try. Some kids spilled it though and the teacher got mad because it made everything pink.”

“I don’t like Bork!” said Nikki.

“Me neither,” said Leah.

“How would you know? You’ve never even tried it.”

“Yeah I did,” insisted Leah.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Ok that’s enough!” laughed Grandma. “We’re not making Borscht today. We are making Easter eggs. We’re going to color them with these vegetables.”

“That’s not how you do it,” said Leah. “I remember. We put the eggs in colored water.”

“You’re right Leah, but we’re going to make our own colored water by boiling vegetables. Look at this beet. What color do you think we’ll get from this?”

“Red!”

“Icky Brown!”

Grandma cut the beet in half and then showed the kids. “How about now?”

“Pink!”

“Red!”

She showed them the yellow onions and the kids guessed brown, orange, and yellow. Then she asked them about the red cabbage. They guessed red because of the name, and purple because of how it looked.

“Those are all great guesses! Let’s start cooking and find out.”

The kids were delighted to peek into the pots and watch the water turn color as the vegetables cooked. They saw pink, orange, and…

“Blue! Look Grandma, the cabbage is making blue!”

The fun continued throughout the morning. The kids wrote on the eggs with white crayon and then as they steeped the eggs in dye, their drawings were revealed. By lunchtime, the counter was covered in beautiful eggs laid out to dry.

“Now, what shall I do with these vegetable?” Grandma asked herself aloud. She had strained them from the cooking water and set them aside. “Oh I know, I’ll make Borscht!”

Alex grinned, Leah made a gagging sound, and Nikki said, “Bork!”