Strawberries
Had some cut up strawberries for dessert tonight. Strawberries definitely rate as one of my favourite fruits, and yet, often, they don't produce the exhilarating sensation of cherries, raspberries, or peaches. I more often find greater joy and satisfaction with those fruits than with strawberries and yet I persist in believing that strawberries are my favourite fruit. What is this strange power that strawberries hold over me? Do those handful of truly sweet and delectable strawberry moments during the summer (and I do mean only a handful) really make up for hundreds of mediocre strawberry experiences? How can only 5-10 heavenly strawberry moments a year allow these curious red berries to conquer an entire season of cherry bliss? Are strawberries like raising a child? The power of the rewarding events far outweighs the power of the tedious ones, causing one to completely discount the less than joyous times? Are strawberries really that amazing, or is this lingering brainwashing from my Strawberry Shortcake years?