Every day I walk out my front door en-route to the bus stop to retrieve my boys. And each time I pass by my neighbors yard, I longingly eye his fig laden fruit tree. The juicy green and purple spheres dangle loosely from the bushes, constantly tempting me to pick just one. Or maybe two. When my husband informed me that we had been given the green light to pick to our hearts content, you can guess who was out there without a moments notice, bucket in one hand and clippers in the other.
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