Sunday Confessions: Cultivate AKA The Time I Picked All The Carrots

It's Sunday, which means it is Sunday Confessions time with More than Cheese and Beer. This Sunday Confessions topic is cultivate. Of course, when I hear the word cultivate, I think of farming or gardening. And what do I know about growing any sort of plant? Diddly squat. That's what. 
While I may know nothing about gardening, I do know how to destroy someone else's garden. Before you go judging me for my destructive and careless behavior, please keep in mind that I was 5-years-old at the time of the story I'm about to share with you. 
Okay, onto the story now. After a little background, that is.
This story took place at my childhood friend, Jamie's, house. Jamie and I were always doing something fun, and I have fond memories of the tea parties we would have with her little child-sized tea set. Her mom would make us a little pot of tea, and we would take turns pouring it in the teeny tiny tea cups, followed by dropping a little cube of sugar into the cup to sweeten it up a bit. Jamie and I would sit there and sip on our tea with our pinkies out while we practiced our best 5-year-old American versions of British accents. (I might have made that pinkies out and British accent part up just to make the story sound more interesting, but you get the point. We liked our tea parties.)
Sure, we loved our tea parties, but we also loved playing outside. I remember going on bug hunts in her back yard and swimming in her pool quite a bit, but there was one time that we decided to embark on a gardening adventure. 

You see, Jamie's parents had a really lovely garden in their backyard. I'm not certain as to what exactly they grew, but I do know that they grew lots of carrots. And why do I remember the carrots? Because Jamie and I picked a whole lot of them one day...without the permission of her parents. 

photo credit: arbyreed via photopin cc

In retrospect, I have not a clue as to why we had the impulse to do that. Maybe we thought we were helping her parents by prematurely yanking the carrots from the soil. Maybe we were hungry and decided to pick a few to have for a snack. Who knows, really? One thing I do know is that it was probably my idea and that we were determined to pick those carrots.
Just picture a couple of little girls crouched in the garden and yanking carrots from the soil, giggling and grinning about all the fun they were having. That was us. For a few minutes, this was a very exhilarating experience. Pulling out the carrots felt almost therapeutic. So therapeutic, in fact, that we just couldn't stop pulling them out. 

Her mom was in the kitchen doing the dishes when she looked out the window in horror and realized that we had torn her garden apart. She was the sweetest woman in the world, and this was the first time that I ever heard her raise her voice. We were ordered to stop what we were doing, get out of the garden and into the house. 
Upon entering the house, we received our punishment. Our punishment was to eat all of the carrots we just picked, which, in retrospect, was not exactly a punishment. I mean, we picked the carrots because we wanted to eat them in the first place. I'd say we won.