This is how it happened
The Great Tomato Massacre
Judy and I were messing around in the back yard. It was a hot summer day and the swing set our only entertainment. Swinging got the air moving on your bare arms and legs and for a few minutes it felt nice and cool. For just a few minutes that is.
Then one of us, I forget who, got the bright idea to turn on the water hose. The hose was near the swing set. Mom left it there because she had prize tomato plants nearby. We were warned every time we left the house "Don't you two mess around and ruin my beefsteak tomatoes now!" I swear, if we heard that twenty times that summer, we heard it a million.
"Push me higher Max!" Judy screamed at me. I pushed her over my head, then ran, eyes closed, swatting mosquitoes. For you see, when you water your back yard in Ohio, bugs like to congregate there. Mosquitoes in Ohio at any time like a soggy backyard.
I slipped, my bare feet having no grip whatsoever on the muddy grass. I slid right into the wonderful, luscious, beefsteak tomatoes. Judy ran over to check on me. She slid right into the tomatoes also. Now we both were covered in tomatoes. Red tomato innards all over our clothes, our feet, our hair. We were a sight. If we had been put into boiling water, you could've made a soup out of us. Come to think of it, we were in some pretty hot water right about then!
"Max? Judy? What are you doing! Are you...? OH NO!" Mom came out the back door like she had been shot out of a gun.
"What is going on! Who's fault is this!" She was mad, alright.
"OK, Mom. This is how it happened....."