Oh, the blueberry muse is on my lips. Shall I recant all the delicious, sublime tastes that pass my tongue when I greedily pop plump orbs into my mouth?
Let's just say that, correct French or not, "J'aime les bleuets! C'est tres magnifique!"
Kiss, kiss.
A song we made up, about three years ago, when my grandbaby was a wee infant with blueberry colored eyes...
There's a boy,
who has blueberry eyes.
There's my boy,
He has blueberry eyes.
He's my boy,
with those blueberry eyes.
I love my boy,
With his blueberry eyes.
(This nursery song was sung continuously as Baby Blue-Eyes was rocked to sleep. Additional verses crept in to the song, such as "He loves his nana, the boy with blueberry eyes; He loves his papa, the boy with blueberry eyes"; Sometimes I substituted momma and daddy). Mostly I just tried to brainwash his young brain with how much I love him and he loves me.
FYI: Blueberries on sale this week, Freddy's, 2# for $4.00. Oh, yeah.
P.S. The song DOES not work on sister.
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