All my pickle babies, all my pickle babies…

Last summer we gave Finn his first taste of pickle, with colorful results. Ever since then we’ve had a nice rapport with the folks at the “meat hut” (the smokehouse down the street), with us calling the proprietors “Pickle Man” and “Pickle Lady,” and the latter calling Finn her “pickle baby.” They’re always quick to furnish Finn with a pickle while we wait, and we brought them a print of the image below. Unfortunately I misplaced the digital copy until now:

(Here’s a larger version.)

One reply on “All my pickle babies, all my pickle babies…”

With a face like that, I have no clue how you guys will ever say “no” to anything Finn asks for. I couldn’t. 🙂

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