Cabbage Birth Revelry

Once upon a time, in the whimsical world of my childhood, my ever-so-mysterious grandmother unveiled the secret of my origin. Imagine my utter astonishment when she proclaimed, with the utmost seriousness, that I wasn’t delivered by a stork nor found in a golden basket, but rather, I was born under a cabbage!

Roll on, my birthday, the fifth of May — overshadowed by Cinco de Mayo festivities yet uniquely mine in its veggie-centric mystique. Homeward bound, spirits as soggy as the day itself, I was met by the tragicomic sight of wilted cabbages in the garden, their frostbitten leaves and slimy…