Brock helped himself to the bowl of freshly picked berries from his Granny's strawberry patch. He has had strawberries before, but these weren't just any strawberries. They were perfectly ripe, juicy, straight out of the garden. He took one, and then another and another and another and another. We finally stopped counting. By the time it was over, he had strawberry on his face, on his hands, on his feet, behind his ear. I think it is safe to say he thoroughly enjoyed them.
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