Don’t you remember when a tiny tomato held endless possibilities?
What is it? An apple (“Ap-m” as Riley would say)?
A jelly donut with seeds?
A great big red eyeball that popped out of someone’s head?
I am exposed to life’s riveting questions when I sit with my sons at the Picnic Table Café.
That’s not sarcasm.
What is a tomato?
How did God design so many different things with seeds on the inside and seeds on the outside? How come I like tomatoes, but the next person thinks they’re nasty? Why didn’t I ever notice how easy it is to squish one in my fist as the seeds come flying out?
Why does Riley think I want to hold the tomato when he’s done squashing it?
May curiosity always be with me, like a little leaky tomato in my pocket.