Just call me Strawberry Shortcake

On Easter Sunday, we headed over to my parent's house for dinner and the annual egg hunt.
My parents live on a large piece of land. Much of it is wooded and they have planted every plant known to man.
So it was not unusual to me when I came across a strawberry patch my mom had planted over by my dad's garage. And if you know me, I love a good strawberry. So I couldn't wait to eat a few of them as soon as I spotted them.
They were very small, but already red. Perfect for eating. I ate 4 and went on about my business.
About an hour later, we all hunted eggs and we were sitting around my parents on the front porch talking. I mentioned to my mom that I thought it was a neat idea she had planted strawberries and that I had found some already red ones and eaten them.
Much to my surprise (and her's) she informed me she didn't know what strawberries I was talking about. I told her that they were the one's she had so neatly put over by the garage.
Apparently, she didn't put them there.
Nature did. Wild strawberries. Or they might not even be strawberries actually. Since when I broke one open to show them they didn't look like strawberries.
Hmm.
If you google wild strawberries, it says they are edible.
Maybe.
But I do seem to be a little itchy and my stomach seems to be a little unsettled.
That might just be the quantity of food I consumed today.
But it is my hope that you, the reader of this blog, will not have the pleasure of telling all your friends about the girl you know who died from eating wild strawberries.
Just sayin'.