Ginger vs. The Rhubarb

Perry here, in a rare blog visit. I decided that too often Ginger posts mostly pictures of the children or me, but she rarely captures only herself on the blog. I thought I'd take this opportunity to share some photos of my beautiful wife. But first, I must provide a little bit of background . . .

Ever since we moved into this house, we have had a few rhubarb plants growing in the garden.

I faithfully water them every season. They flourish. They go to seed. They die back. Winter comes, and the routine is repeated the next season. We have never paused to actually make that delicious strawberry rhubarb pie we have been meaning to make.


When I found out that Ginger has never even tasted fresh rhubarb, I HAD to change that! (Can you see where this is going?) It took some coaxing, but she was a good sport. Naturally, I had the camera in hand...set to the "quick shot" mode. The resulting pictures are below. Enjoy!

Ginger Meets Rhubarb.

Ginger Bites Rhubarb.

Rhubarb Bites Ginger.

Rhubarb Smacks Ginger in the Face.

Ginger Yelps in Agony.

Ginger Cries for it to Stop.

Ginger Holds on for Dear Life.

Ginger Nearly Vomits as She Shoots Looks of Hatred at Her Husband.
(I haven't seen this look since she gave birth to our last child.)

From here, she promptly spat out the offending rhubarb stringlets that had lodged themselves permanently into her tastebuds, teeth, tongue, and psyche.

It was awesome.

Maybe I don't need to worry about watering the rhubarb next year. I think it is doomed anyway. Ginger knows where the Roundup is, and she's not afraid to use it. Revenge is sweet, even if the rhubarb is not. On a positive note, I should probably redeem myself, and say, "Isn't she just the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?!" We love our Ginger.

(Just in case . . . does anyone have a couch I can sleep on tonight?)