Peaches

"I'm Hungry!"
This is Maxwell's nightly response to my declaration of bedtime. I sighed. "How about a peach?", I asked. He consented and off I went.

Returning with a towel, a knife and the peach, I carefully cut him a slice. Max proceeded to eat the quarter-moon shaped portion as though it were a melon, treating the skin as a rind.

"No sweetheart, like this. Like an apple." I instructed, taking a vigorous bite through it all. Max looked suspicious, but gave it a try. He smiled and ate more.

The Peach bore a sunset-colored inner flesh with a complex tang. mmmmmm, heaven. I cut another slice for each of us. "What is this?", Max wanted to know. "The seed , honey.", I replied. "I want to plant it", declared my garden savvy three-year-old.

By way of distraction I explained that eating a peach was like eating the summer sun. Max liked this thought and he and I decided together that sun made the peach sweet, and rain made it juicy. By this point the peach was gone and I found myself on the way to the kitchen for another. (What a mom won't do for a pair of sleepy brown eyes!)
Again I cut two slices. But this peach was different. This peach had a creamy pale, center and firmer flesh. It smelled faintly of honeysuckle and the taste was, well, like honey. Max and I conversed about this new variety between slices. As I wiped the sticky juice from his lips he asked for yet another peach.

"Which one?", I asked, "The sun peach or the honey peach?". "Honey!", he requested. He never finished that last peach. Long before it was finished Max declared himself full and went to bed without complaint. As much as he enjoyed his late night snack, I believe I enjoyed it more.
-EJ