Can't Escape the Genes

We made gallons of salsa over the summer but ate most of it fresh.

 

The girls took dozens of pictures of each other with their lunch, which is kind of weird. (Notice the small pile of "hearts,"  which were included, obviously, because yellow woodsorrel is a necessary part of any well-balanced lunch.)

 

 

 

But it's still not as weird as taking pictures of fresh salsa.  Seriously, why do I do this?