Well hello, Ma’am:

I’ve never put much thought into tomatoes, but you know, I think you’re right. There is something there.

When my husband was a boy, he picked them at his grandfather’s farm. Well, he was supposed to pick them. He says they were so warm and juicy and sweet that he’d eat until he burst and then roll over and sleep. He still loves tomatoes. Tomatoes most DEFINITELY do not love him back, though.

Our youngest is not a fan. When she was really little, I would tell her they were moon squirts (no clue; it’s the first thing that popped into my head). She fell for it for maybe five minutes. After that, she trusted none of my flim flam, and always had one eye on my cooking, BOLO-ing for my Tom Foolery.

So I don’t buy them often. Hm. Look there — I’ve gone thirty years without knowing I frown at tomatoes. LOL.

Good catch. I see I have to be very careful with you. Hahaha! Lovely to make your acquaintance, Ms. Gretchen.