Last summer, we moved to Burnaby, because my parents would like to have a bigger house. So, we moved, and my parents were very excited that we have a huge apple tree in our new backyard.
Days go by, and suddenly, the apples start to fall from the tree. During the summer, my parents and sister were busy with picking apples and giving out vegetables grown in the front and back of our house. First couple weeks, we were all excited and happy that we’re eating food from the backyard. Then after that, we become a bit miserable, and my dad started going out shopping for vegetables.
I think my mom is the coolest person in the house. No matter how much we complain and whine, every day she makes apple juice for every person in the house, because we are so sick at biting apples. She mixes milk or carrots with the apples, and makes us guess what she used today, though it was VERY obvious since it’s pink with carrots. My sister said to my mom tonight: “Mom, it’s that we have to finish those apples, it’s not that I like to eat apples or drink apple juice.”
Mom said: “It’s good for you.” So now, here I am, with another huge cup of apple juice in my hands. Gotta finish it before it turns brown, argh!
