nix on the picnics

Strawberry picking is not my children's favorite pastime.  I conned them into it with promises of a picnic and fun for all.  The other two families who joined us also had picnic plans.  When my kids were "done" they headed to the car to where I told them I'd meet them in a few minutes "for the picnic".  I trudged up there with my bucket 'o strawberries and discovered them all IN the car, air conditioning blasting, radio blaring,  having already eaten the picnic (including my special chicken and cream cheese sandwich, which Gus informed me was "FINE but I really wanted peanut butter and jelly".  I ate HIS peanut butter and jelly.  (Thanks.)  The other children in attendance sat and waited while their moms doled out the picnic which they ate, sitting in the sunshine on the grass (picnic-style).  I found myself quite annoyed, wondering why my kids didn't understand the concept of the "picnic" (hardly a complicated concept.  Puhlease.)  Then (and in no way am I knocking the other kids for sitting and enjoying their lunch in the way it was intended) I had a small epiphany.  As much as it is worth celebrating the traditional memory-making-picnic, it is also worth celebrating my kids ability to just take care of themselves.  They were hungry (damnit) and the food was there and they doled it out in the comfort of the cool car, with the radio on.