“Look at all these apple trees, Billy!” Tom exclaimed, adjusting his brown cap as they stood at the orchard entrance. The autumn breeze gently rustled through the leaves, carrying the sweet scent of ripe apples.
Billy bounced up and down, his missing front tooth visible in his wide smile. “Can we pick the biggest ones, Dad? Can we?” He pointed excitedly at the red fruits hanging from nearby branches.
Tom picked up the large wicker basket and grabbed the long wooden picking pole. “Of course we can, buddy! But remember what Mom said – we need to be careful and…” Before he could finish, Billy was already running toward the nearest tree, leaving his father chuckling and hurrying to catch up.
“Higher, Dad, higher!” Billy giggled from atop his father’s shoulders. Tom wobbled slightly, trying to maintain his balance while holding the picking pole.
“Whoa there, steady now!” Tom laughed, taking a careful step forward. “These apples are playing hide and seek with us!”
Billy reached out, his small fingers just inches from a perfect red apple. “Almost got it, Dad! Just a little bit more!”
Tom stretched the pole upward, his cap slipping slightly. “Remember, when I say ‘now,’ you grab the apple, okay?”
“Ready!” Billy announced, positioning himself like a tiny superhero on his father’s shoulders.
“NOW!” Tom shouted. But as Billy lunged for the apple, Tom lost his balance. The pole swung wildly, hitting the branch above them. Suddenly, it seemed as if the tree had decided to rain apples!
“BONK! BONK! BONK!” Down came the apples, one after another, landing on poor Tom’s head. He stumbled backward, trying to dodge the fruity bombardment, but ended up sprawled on the ground, surrounded by dozens of red apples.
Billy jumped off just in time and stood watching, pointing and laughing so hard he could barely speak. “Dad… you look… like an apple sandwich!” he managed between giggles.
Tom lay there, covered in apples, and started laughing too. “Well, I guess the apples really wanted to meet me!”
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the orchard, Tom and Billy made their way toward the exit. Tom carried the basket full of apples, walking with an exaggerated limp that made Billy giggle every few steps.
“Dad?” Billy asked, polishing his special apple on his shirt. “Can we come back next weekend?”
Tom adjusted his cap and smiled down at his son. “Of course we can, buddy. But maybe next time we’ll let the apples come to us more gently!”
They both laughed, remembering their adventure, as fireflies began to twinkle around them like tiny stars. It had been a perfect day – even if some of the apples had chosen a rather direct route from tree to basket!