When I Grow Up

While I was preparing dinner this evening I recalled one of those "where do you think you will be in twenty years" conversations you sometimes end up having over the dinner table. It came to mind as I sliced the avocado open.

You are guaranteed, if it's a table full of lesbians, that one will say that they will be the crazy cat lady at the end of the street. I have come to realise in the last few years what my calling in that direction will be.

I will be the crazy avocado lady. I have had the odd uncontrollable practice moment at the supermarket in the last few years and I see now, as PMT becomes a memory, that I will be able do it out of sheer bloody mindedness when I'm a true senile Nana. I will hover by the avocado stands and scream loudly when anyone commits the sin, "Don't Squeeze the Avocados". Every culprit will be forced to purchase the avocado that they have squeezed, and if I have lucked in and become senile lotto winning Nana I'll install video camera's.

My reasons for doing this? Below is a prime example of what happens when you "gently" squeeze an avocado to see if it's ripe, a collection of fingertip bruises and one inedible avocado, so "Don't Squeeze the Avocados!"