Sweet Peaches


Who doesn't love a nice juicy peach? It is one of natures perfect fruits isn't it? There is nothing like a peach, not a peach from a store mind you, but one ripened on a tree. The ones from the store are usually crunchy and have no flavor.


This weekend my mother brought me some of the peaches she grew from her very own tree. I have to admit that it has been a while since I have had a good peach so I fully indulged myself. My first bite was an orgy of sweet, tart and juicy all rolled into one. Wow, I thought, this is like a little party in my mouth. So I had another and another and another, and well six peaches later I was so satisfied I almost had to have a cigarette out on the deck.


Just as it is in such stories of indulgence, pain inevitably follows. Around 2:00 a.m. I awoke to such terrible pain in my belly. My muscles were spazzing and convulsing that I had to assume the fetal position for about 10 counts. For a minute I thought I was experiencing premenstrual syndrome, also known as PMS, and I started a search for a Midol PM, but being a man I had none in stock. Needless, to say it was a long night.


When I came home from church a viel of forgetfulness came across my mind about the previous evenings angony and I indulged in another round of compulsive peach eating. Only to be followed by the same pain all over again.


You might on occasion ask yourself, "Rob why do this to yourself when you know that you will have such pain?" And I inevitably will say, "Because it is a peach, Wiotch!"

Comments

oh sweet, roberto! you'd already told me the story before and i still laughed out loud reading it a second time. why is it that we find such humor in other people's pain? you should stick to the safe fruits, like grapes. six of those babies and you're still good to go!
Erin said…
Robierto, get off of the smokes!
Bart said…
I got a tiny bit scared when I started reading this, because I thought you were going to describe the details of what happens with such a fibrous evening snack. Those puppies flush right through, if you know what I'm sayin'. You can skip your spoonful of Metamucil sprinkled on your Frosted Flakes the next morning.

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