Eating Machines

I know I have addressed this before but it SERIOUSLY bears repeating.

BamBam and Thumper are eating machines.

Almost of the scary biblical proportions of those locusts in Moses's time.

If the creek in my back yard turns red I am ringing up Captain Kirk and booking the next Expedia.com flight out of Dodge...that's all I'm saying.

Case in point.

We went blueberry picking on Saturday and managed to bring home eight pounds of delicious, heady, winey blueberry goodness.

Two thirds of which is now safely stored in my big standing freezer in the basement. HELLO winter offerings of pancakes, waffles, muffins and coffeecake!

Of course there might have been ANOTHER 8 pounds if the stinkers had actually managed to put half in their buckets of what they put in their mouths.

AND THEN

THEN.....after the picking and the consuming of the berries by the boys, we went and ate at a huge southern country buffet.

And not one of those half baked chain offerings either.

Oh no, we went to a real deal, family owned 60 year old establishment and hellsbells if those stinkers didn't knock back three full plates of food plus cobbler

WITH homemade ice cream.

I love them. But my envy of their metabolism gives me a bit of a pause.

stinkers