Fifth grade. Playground. Kids are shouting and calling each other 'cherry pickers.' I'm confused about the true meaning of this term but I can only assume it has something to do with the extraction of underwear from ones behind. I smile and nod and go back to my corner in Quiet-Shy-Girl Town.
Many years later. Sitting at my computer. Preparing an outfit post. Consider referencing 'cherry picker' slang. Remember an embarrassing moment on Twitter when I said something about 'turtlenecking' before consulting Urban Dictionary. Look up 'cherry picker' on said website.
Dear friends, Rest assured that I am not in the business of preying on virgins or reserving all the easy work for myself (anymore). The truth is that I attended a cherry picking party on Saturday and I put myself in a dress for that very special occasion.
I had such a good time hanging out with friends while Georgia did somersaults in the grass. Barbeque, blog chat, babies - bliss!
As a sidenote: I didn't pick one damn cherry. I don't even like cherries.