My Son's girlfriend gifted me some tomatoes from her garden patch and it's the first time I've had tomatoes that tasted this good since my grandparents died. I'm in my 50's now and I've been complaining about the poor quality of tomatoes ever since. Everyone says when people pass we remember things about them more fondly than they actually were before they died. Maybe it was true, maybe I was picky, anythings possible I thought. I wasn't sure, memory generally fades over time, not improve. However I found out I was right because these are exactly like my grandparents grew. I've had all sorts of tomatoes of all types over the decades and none of them ever tasted like this. Okay I liked her but now it's official – my son can never, ever, ever break up with her. If my son is ever so foolish to leave her we'll have plenty of fresh tomatoes to pelt him with and today at lunch I'm going to tell him so.
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