The Big Daddy is a farmer in his off hours and very proud of his bounty. He’s grown lettuce, tomatoes, raspberries, rhubarb, onions, beans, zucchini and eggplant. On harvest days, he carefully carries in his veggies like they’re little newborn babies.
The baby lettuce he birthed had a slight problem. At times it tended to taste bitter and once (and only once) I made the mistake of crack-a-lackin on his kid. The other day I made a salad with blackened chicken and picked some of the lettuce. We ate it and everybody loved the chicken, but on the down low, Mallie Bee said to me, “The lettuce is bitter.” I whispered back, “I know but eat it anyway or you-know-who will get mad at us.” We grimaced our way through it and never let on to The Big Daddy Farmer in the Dell that we weren’t a fan of the produce part of the meal. He chomped away like it was the best thing he’s ever tasted, the “b” word was never spoken out loud and never could I have guessed that the seemingly harmless lettuce leaf would be the elephant in the room.
