It took hand clippers, a butcher knife, my shredder, the big measuring cup, a large mixing bowl, and almost 30 zip-quart bags, but I won.
The
Attack of the Zucchini Monster was thwarted by stalwart stealth (snuck up on them as they lay there growing larger, fatter, longer, hotter), elbow grease, skinned knuckles (still using the original grater from the beginning of the marriage days), sweat equity, and the upright freezer.
Just you wait, zucchini monster. This winter, when I'm baking the thirtieth batch of whole wheat zucchini bread, I will reflect back and smile.
Zucchini Monster - zero.
Me - 1.
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