I tripped on an apple and hurt my pride

Our local orchard is full of REALLY good-looking guys…

Er, I mean really good-looking produce.

If you’re my husband, stop reading.

I tried to take a picture of the REALLY good-looking “produce” for you,

but he was camera shy.

Picture a guy who is 6’3″ tall, blond, and shoulders wide as a barn door.

Let’s call him Steve.

Steve offered his hand as I disembarked from the wagon.

I accepted his help, because I’m no dummy.

Afterwards, I couldn’t stop giggling.

My husband wasn’t amused.

I attempted to prove I was unaffected by burly, hot farmers.

I picked apples like a woman possessed.

I brought home 3,519 apples.

Now I have to think of ways to cook them all.

Your advice is needed!