Sliced Tomato

“We have our first t-shirts for Loud Garden,” said Christopher Corn, with excitement dancing in his eyes.
 
“What do they look like?” asked Cameron Cauliflower, equally excited.
 
“I haven’t opened them yet,” said Christopher.
 
“Why not?” asked Calvin Carrot.
 
“I figured we would open them together,” said Christopher.
 
“As a group?” asked Mrs. Tomato.
 
Yes,” said Christopher.
 
“Who is going to open the box?” asked Olive Onion.
 
“How about we let the girls do it?” asked Oliver Onion, Olive’s husband.
 
“I think that is a good idea,” said Christopher, handing the knife to Mrs. Tomato.
 
Olive held onto the box while Mrs. Tomato sliced through the packing tape. She was struggling because the tape was several layers thick.
 
“Do you want some help?” asked Christopher.
 
“No,” said Mrs. Tomato. “I got it.”
 
“Just don’t cut yourself,” said Christopher.
 
“I won’t,” said Mrs. Tomato.
 
No sooner did Mrs. Tomato say she wouldn’t cut herself when she felt the knife slice her hand.

“Oh dear,” said Christopher. “Are you okay?”
 
“I am fine,” said Mrs. Tomato. “It isn’t bleeding.”
 
“How come I see tomato juice on the knife?” asked Christopher, taking the knife away from her and inspecting the cut.
 
Oliver grabbed the first aid kit he saw hanging on the wall of the barn. Within minutes, Christopher had her hand bandaged up.
 
“What is going on here?” asked Farmer Fred, coming into the barn.
 
“Mrs. Tomato sliced her hand,” explained Christopher. “She was trying to open the box of t-shirts we just got.”
 
“She was trying to make sliced tomatoes,” said Farmer Fred.
 
“Yes,” laughed Christopher. “I am sure that is what she was trying to do.”
 
“I see you have it all bandaged up,” said Farmer Fred.
 
“Yes,” said Mrs. Tomato. ‘ ‘It didn’t even hurt.”
 
“Good,” said Farmer Fred. “Let’s take a look at those t-shirts.”
 
Farmer Fred took the knife from the table and opened the box. The t-shirts were perfect. He handed the first one to Mrs. Tomato.
 
“You deserve the first one,” said Farmer Fred.
 
“Thank you,” said Mrs. Tomato.
 
“Just don’t get any tomato juice on it,” said Christopher.
 
“No,” laughed Mrs. Tomato. “I won’t.”