I remember one particularly vivid childhood memory, (when I said childhood I meant like four years ago). It involved a nice old lady, Sunday lunch and a lot of melon. Now I was staying at my Moms-Moms house, so my Grandmas house and one of my Grandmas friends had invited me and my mom to Sunday lunch. Of course we obliged and in the most part the meal was fine and not particularly memorable now at all.
We finished the meal and then she came through with a bowl full of pieces of melon… Now I do not like melon but there was only a manageable amount on my plate so I obliged, I mean... one can’t reject food from a nice old lady, especially when she prepares it specially. Seemingly I kept turning around and every time I did so, she popped an extra piece of melon on my plate or at least that’s how it seemed to work out.
“Your just like my grandson Nick, he simply loves melon.” She exclaimed,
I’m just like,
“Oh, Goodness no! You’ve got me all wrong nice old lady!”
Of course I didn’t say that, I mean... one can’t say such things to a nice old lady.
I finish the melon pieces,
“Don’t worry there is plenty more from melons where that came, let me just prepare some more.” She reassures me.
Of course when a nice old lady offers you extras one has to oblige but that is a unspoken rule I’ve never heard of, unfortunately so much melon had already got into my blood stream I couldn’t be saved, melons have haunted my nightmares for my life thus far and no doubt will until I realize how good they taste with Sugar Puffs (That’s a different story guys, don’t sweat it.).
Anyway, this old lady is very nice, she is a very nice old lady unfortunately she thinks I have some kind of strange incurable melon addiction.
We finished the meal and then she came through with a bowl full of pieces of melon… Now I do not like melon but there was only a manageable amount on my plate so I obliged, I mean... one can’t reject food from a nice old lady, especially when she prepares it specially. Seemingly I kept turning around and every time I did so, she popped an extra piece of melon on my plate or at least that’s how it seemed to work out.
“Your just like my grandson Nick, he simply loves melon.” She exclaimed,
I’m just like,
“Oh, Goodness no! You’ve got me all wrong nice old lady!”
Of course I didn’t say that, I mean... one can’t say such things to a nice old lady.
I finish the melon pieces,
“Don’t worry there is plenty more from melons where that came, let me just prepare some more.” She reassures me.
Of course when a nice old lady offers you extras one has to oblige but that is a unspoken rule I’ve never heard of, unfortunately so much melon had already got into my blood stream I couldn’t be saved, melons have haunted my nightmares for my life thus far and no doubt will until I realize how good they taste with Sugar Puffs (That’s a different story guys, don’t sweat it.).
Anyway, this old lady is very nice, she is a very nice old lady unfortunately she thinks I have some kind of strange incurable melon addiction.
