I was picking what was sure to be some of the last raspberries of the season last evening with my youngest son who is now just 5 months shy of his 2nd birthday. We went out with some little cups in hand as I know from experience that very few, if any, raspberries make it into my house when he visits the raspberry patch. We started out across the yard and his excitement was almost contagious. As he marched towards the bushes I decided to head round the back side to try to get some into my cup before he discovered that I had raspberries to spare. It wasn't much use, just as fast as I could pick them, he gobbled them up. It is actually quite amusing to watch as he doesn't just pick one berry at a time from my cup or my palm, he grabs fat fistfuls and forcefully shoves them into his mouth as though he were experiencing his last supper. It is actually quite amusing.
I was left thinking about that book again, if you haven't read it, please do, or read it to a child in your life. I completely understand how the mother must have felt as she tried to get just a little distance ahead of Sal to try to have just a few berries to spare, meanwhile being pursued by a little one who knows you have something good!