Strawberries Hate the Snow

The other day Ellie and I were snacking on some edamame. Annie is less interested in them, so she's simultaneously eating sugar snap peas. She asks me, "Why do those have a weird name?"
"Edamame?" I asked, "Well, they're from another country, far, far away, so they just have a different sounding name."
"Why are they from far, far away?"
"Well, not all foods grow in all places, so a lot of our different foods come from different places?"
"Why?" (I'm hearing that one word question so many times a day that it leaves me both amazed by her inquisitiveness, and ready to pull out my own hair in frustration.)
"Well, different places have different weather. Some places are hotter, and some are colder, so different foods grow better in some places than in others."
"Why does some stuff grow better in some places?"
"Well, for instance, California is warmer than Utah a lot of the time, and doesn't have a lot of snow like we do in the winter, so oranges grow better in California than in Utah."
Long pause, taking this all in, then excitedly, "Mom! Our strawberries need to move to California! I don't want them to get cold in the snow here!"
She has talked nonstop, ever since, about fruits and veggies being happier in California where there is no snow. I promised her our strawberries will be protected, hiding under the dirt when it snows, then when it gets warm enough they'll come back out and be fine. She seems skeptical.

Unrelated, I'm constantly marveling at how much more adventurous Ellie is than Annie was at this age. Lately Ellie's favorite new thing is to climb onto Annie's bed, then off. Then on, then off. Then on, then off. Repeat ad nauseum. It made me laugh though when, one time, she scooted herself to the very edge of the bed, looked at me and smiled, then arms spread wide open, she just threw herself off the bed, belly flopping onto the pillows I'd left on the edge of the bed ever since she's taken up this strange new bed climbing hobby. Then she just laughed and laughed. Later, Greg took the girls to the park while I laid home and whined about my hideously disfigured thumb (more on that in a second). Ellie wants to be just like the big kids. She was trying to climb up the slide by herself, wanted to climb up all the ladders/steps by herself, and if there was the tiniest bit of pause between activities, she'd freak and point emphatically at the slide she wanted to ride on next and angrily chew out Greg for not being on task.

I'm surprised I was able to type out the above stories, as I currently feel like I can think of little else then my poor charred thumb. It had a run-in with a 450 degree flat iron today, and I doubt it will ever be the same again. I have been shocked by the amount of pain, and the length of time said pain has lasted (I think I burned myself about 6 hours ago, and if I even think about removing the ice filled washcloth, it starts to throb and I get whiny (er)). I made the mistake of looking for, then following, advice I found on the internet. See, I've been reading a lot of 'dummies guide to doing little girl's hair' blogs (recently I admitted I'm seriously inept at this particular motherly skill.) Well, again and again I've seen it suggested that rather than old school curling irons, flat irons are all the rage for curling hair. With Annie this obviously isn't an issue, but I tried to do my hair curly today, and the front sections just looked ugly and stringy, and I was like, "Hey genius! I could try using a flat iron to add some curl around my face! Then I don't even have to fish around under the sink trying to locate an actual curling iron." Yeah, not so much. First of all, I suck at all things 'hair' anyway, so to try a 'new' method of curling when I have actually mastered the curling iron, was kinda dumb. Second, it's hard to use! It may be easier on someone else's hair, but on my own, I couldn't keep my hair in it, and there was nothing to 'hold onto', like the curling iron's handle.
You have to apparently be smarter than the flat iron.
'Cause if you're not, and you try to keep your hair in it's grip by adding pressure by griping it in place with your fingers, you may just accidently stick your entire thumb against the side of the ridiculously hot flat iron plates and be scarred for life. Or maybe that's just me.
I'm off to go get new ice. The searing flesh of mine is just melting right through the stuff.