Mexican Mango

Nyah: Mommy, is this mango from Grandma and Grandpa's yard?

Me: No sweetie, I wish. That sour mango is from Mexico.

Nyah: Oh.

But she still ate it, still loved it. 


And I guarentee you George is most definitely shaking his head as he reads this post from somewhere in Louisiana. He is shaking his head because I did it. Because I bought a mango, actually bought, with our hard earned money something he has had in abundance and at his finger tips his whole life. But I had to do it honey. Had to buy her a mango because, Indiana, St. Croix or Mexico, they are still her favorite fruit and they still have the ability to put a smile this big on her face. How could I resist?


Oh, and thanks Mexico. Nice try.