The Fruit of The Heavens

Do you ever get strange cravings?

This morning on my way to work I had this unquenchable desire for avocado, so I bought and devoured one on it's own, in one sitting. Had I the means, I would have sliced it in half, removed the seed, and tipped a little pool of French dressing into the recess of each half, but I made do. I am now sated, but a little queasy.

Avocado is one of life's simple pleasures, and one that I cherish. But my eating must be a solitary activity, for as much as I love and respect my wife, her treatment of this Eden-esque fruit is at best careless, and at worst disrespectful.

As you know, once an avocado reaches it's prime, it must be enjoyed quickly and tastefully, and preferably at room temperature. It does not keep once opened, and though it may retain its' colour with contained refrigeration, it loses all its vital goodness, and becomes a mockery of it's former self.

What my wife will do though, is open one, sometimes before ripeness, will scrape out a bit for a sandwich, then stick it back together and put it in the fridge. As though the damage has not been done. As though it will ever ripen now. As though it will somehow retain it's lovely texture and colour and not go brown and horrible in an hour or two. As though she will ever return to this poor, used and defiled fruit. This my friends, should not be.