“You like ‘em big?”
My husband flirts with the blondie trying to haul an orange behemoth into her wheelbarrow. It seems she popped a few buttons of her plaid flannel in the process.
“Aah surr’ do.”
Her country-girl accent and dirty smile is pure temptation. “Got monster ones in the barn for the fair, wanna see ’em?”
When I ask the price of those and she rakes her chocolate manicured nails on my husband’s denim-caged monster, I’m not shocked, not even surprised.
***
We leave with so much more than a 200 lbs showpiece smelling of her pumpkin pie.
