As a horticulturalist you would think I had grown corn, but before last year – I hadn’t. Okay, maybe in college just to mess with it.
Last year we tried and instead of the taste of buttery, fresh corn we learn about lack of pollination and corn smut (nice name, huh?)
We vow together this year will be different. New variety. More sun. Watch the watering.
We pamper our corn for 70 days. It grows, it tassels, it has silk and finally looks ripe.
Andre decides to pick. I document the occasion.
He sits down and says,
“Well, mom this is the moment of truth.”
He peels back the husk
and we find joy.