The sun baked grass tickled my feet as I ran through my grandma's backyard. I had a lace pink sun hat on, shading my eyes. I ran through the gravel like it was nothing, which it wasn’t compared to my grandma’s cherry tomatoes. I reached the garden beds, overflowing with bright green, healthy stems and blood red sweet 100's, perfect for picking. My grandma slowly followed behind, and handed me a large woven basket for picking. It served no use though, because every one I picked went directly into my mouth. They bursted open like fireworks of sweetness and tang. She laughed, and went inside to return with a smaller basket that I could “use”, while she picked some of her own for our lunch. We stayed in those bushes for what felt like the rest of the sunny summer afternoon. Every time I thought I had eaten my last tomato, I would see another one hiding behind some leaves. Finally the sun went behind a cloud, and my grandma had me grab the hose to give the bushes a “big drink”. We walked back int the cool of her home, which she always kept very cold in the summer. We washed our tomato collection in the sink, then layed them out across the counter on top of some paper towels. We counted them, 1 by 1,  until we reached the last sweet 100. We had picked 302. I was very proud with my picking as I watched by grandma cut the tomatoes in half and season them. I walked back outside into the grass and sprawled out on my back, my sun hat covering my eyes. Through the small holes I watched the clouds swirl by slowly in the breeze. The soft grass tickled my neck and I brushed the tips with my tiny fingers. “LUUUNCH, MISS!”, my grandma called through the screen door, and back inside I went. Just a simple summer day.