Fruit Texture-A Tale of Embarrassing & Funny Moments

Image by GraphicMama-team from Pixabay

A few months back, I was having writer’s block. I posted on social media to garner suggestions on topics to write about. One of the recommended topics was fruit texture. How does one tell an interesting story about the guts and skin of fruit? Well, naturally, you compare it to a few funny experiences in life. So come along with me on this fun journey about life and fruit.

My Acting Experience – A Bittersweet Grapefruit

When I was little, I absolutely loved watching music videos and pretending I was in them. I also did the same while watching certain movies, especially Goonies. Man, did I want to play the cheerleader, and love interest, of Josh Brolin’s character in that movie. Andy was this lucky lady’s character name, played by Kerri Green. She got to go on an incredibly cool and scary treasure hunt with a bunch of cute boys.

As you can imagine, after pretending at home for so long, I could not wait to try out for my first play in high school. I decided to sign up for drama club at my new high school my freshman year.

I met a super nice guy in Drama Club shortly after singing up. He had been in many plays over the years. He urged me to audition for the upcoming play, The Crucible. This was it, I told myself. I was finally going to realize my dream of becoming an actress even if only on a high school stage. I rehearsed my lines and the day came for me to try out. Anyone else who auditioned could hang out in the theater afterwards to watch others try out as well.

My palms were slick and my heart was pounding as I crossed the stage and prepared to say my lines. Just a few rows in front of me was the drama club veteran who had now become my friend and had urged me to audition.

I went for it, and thought that in the end, I did a pretty decent job. I left the stage after my audition and found a seat in the audience next to my new friend. He hi-fived me and told me I did a good job. I then watched another girl audition for the same role. With the most mortification you could possibly imagine, I realized something when she finished her try out. I had said one of the lines so incredibly wrong, that a case of nervous and hysterical laughter was bubbling up in my chest and ready to burst forth with even more embarrassing magnitude than that of my line screw up.

One of my lines had been, “Mama, I’ll fly to Mama.” There was just one eensy weensy problem. The words, she cried were listed after the line. I had interpreted them to mean say the words like the character was crying. No, wait, not crying, like actually sobbing while saying those words. What it actually meant is what you are likely thinking. The character was supposed to be crying OUT those words- as in YELLING. I had sobbed those words instead of shouting them. So there I was feeling like a grapefruit. A happy, colorful shell, feeling slightly exposed by showing the new inner skin of her acting skills, with a sweetness at first, followed by an oh-crap-that-was-a – bit- extra sour feeling immediately after the first try. To this day I cannot retell this story without cracking up while simultaneously wanting to dive in a hole of embarrassment, never to come out of that hole again.

A Job Interview- A Banana With A Few Bruises

I had a job interview about 6 or 7 years or so ago at a marketing agency. They gave me an assignment to create a campaign for a new energy drink. Part of the assignment had been to choose an ambassador for the drink who aligned with the brand’s image. The ambassador I picked was Julianne Hough. She had been fairly popular at the time, and was fit and healthy, which went along with the overall theme.

The day came and I presented my campaign ideas to the team of interviewers. It felt good to have completed the project, and I was pretty confident I had done an awesome job. Afterwards, one of the interviewers walked me out to the stairwell to say good-bye and thank me. He reiterated that this job would be a lot of travel and a lot of hours. I thanked him for letting me know and then mentioned I had two little boys at home, but I would do my best to make it work if I got the job. He cocked his head and looked at me quizzically before walking away from the stairwell where I immediately regretted what I had just said. I knew in my gut I had blown it by mentioning my kids (sad fact, I know). However, that is not the worst part of my embarrassment.

Later that week, while watching Dancing with the Stars, I heard them introducing the judge’s names and the announcer pronounced Julianne’s last name VERY differently than I had been saying her name. I had been pronouncing it “How” instead of “Huff”. The color drained from my face as I sat there, in front of my TV, and realized I must have said her name 20 times in that presentation, and every single time I’m sure they were cringing at my mispronunciation. Did they all know who she was? I remember wondering and hoping they didn’t notice. Is it as bad as someone calling Danny DeVito Danny DeVitie? Either way, that was two flubs now. So not only did I say the wrong thing while exiting the interview, but I had said my ambassador’s name wrong the entire time! Suffice it to say, I did not get that job.

This experience I liken to a banana. The peel delicately pulled away, one section at a time carefully to reveal the complete, well grown presentation inside. The first few bites sent positive vibes and tasted good, hey, this was a pretty decent, well-rounded banana! Until, three quarters of the way through, brown, bruised spots showed up and ruined the experience all together, leaving the banana to be tossed out entirely, the good parts dismissed by the imperfections at the end

My Modeling Debut and Finale-A Bumpy, Furry, Raspberry

When I was in sixth grade, one of my friend’s brothers needed a favor. It was a weekend morning, and the adult model for a Spanish car dealership newspaper had called out sick. My friend’s brother was the photographer and was frantically trying to get someone to fill in for the model. My friend called me and asked if I could sub in. Sixth grade me? What do I wear? What do I do? I was totally lost as to what I should be bringing and had no clue what my job would be. Would I pass as latina? What would be involved? He was going to pay me forty dollars, so I was basically about to be rich.

I ended up agreeing to help his brother out, because what 12 year old says no to $40 to smile for the camera? I put on one of my mom’s white halter tops with black polka dots on it and a pair of black shorts and pulled half of my hair up. I wasn’t really allowed to wear make-up yet, so I tried my best to figure it out.

I was lucky enough to get my unibrow waxed on days when I went into the salon where my mom worked. It had been quite awhile since the ol’ brows had been waxed so I hoped the camera didn’t close in on those furry friends of mine. I also tried to tell myself Brooke Shields had made thick brows cool.

Puberty was also in my favor. I had some serious brail going on underneath my thin bangs and along my temples.

We got to the dealership and my friend’s brother picked the fanciest car in the lot- a white convertible camero with red seats. I looked at him clueless and said what do I do? He pointed to the hood of the car and said just lean on the car and look over your shoulder at the camera. Seemed easy enough. So I did just that and in less than a couple of minutes we wrapped up this very glamorous modeling shoot. He paid me the forty bucks and we called it a day.

I got a copy of the Auto-trader type newspaper magazine a few weeks later and realized this would be a story for years to come. Not only was my photo on the cover, but I am hilariously referred to as “Miss Automundo”. My family howls at this ridiculous story and every now and then we dig out the old Miss Automundo magazine to take a walk down memory lane and acknowledge my brief modeling career for a Spanish Auto-trader magazine at the age of 12.

This adventure was like a raspberry. There is some furriness going on, including a bumpy brail-like exterior. It’s a tiny fruit with a sugary tartness. It’s got a whole lot of texture going on for such a little fruit!

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Colorful thought bursts and unfiltered ideas in a child’s mind are endlessly humorous. Who doesn’t love to share or hear stories about the random and sometimes shocking sentences that tumble out of children’s mouths? Living on my phone, in the Google Keep app, is a list of both of my sons’ hilarious and interesting ponderings for their father and I to cherish forever. I highly recommend keeping a log of the funny things your child says so you can go back and revisit it as they get older. It was so entertaining to type the list out and re-live the hilarity. From food to movies to general observations about life…their quips are little snack packs of funny.

Let’s talk about food and drink

E: “I like avocado.”

Me: “What do you like most about it?”

E: “It helps you survive earthquakes.”


J: “Mom, I’m ready to stop being picky now. I’m ready to try new and exciting foods. Make me a salad.”


E: “You can get arrested for bringing food into play areas. That’s why the signs say ‘NO FOOD ALLOWED’.”


J: “You can’t drink Mom’s Diet Coke.”

E: “Why?”

J: “Because it’s wine.”


E: “I know what food they give you in jail!

J: “What?”

E: “Spinach.”


Commercials, Famous People & Politicians

A commercial comes on the television and J exclaims, “Mom, come in the living room- quick!”

“What? What is it?”

J: “This stuff is for you! You should get it. It’s for hair loss.”


E: “I’m five now. Do you know what that means I can do? I can watch the movie IT.”


“Who has a birthday party at THAT age?” said while watching the Spiderman movie and hearing Jamie Foxx’s line about his birthday party.


E: “I want to watch Deadpool even though it’s inappropriate. Can you tell me again why it’s inappropriate?

Me: It’s inappropriate for lots of reasons. For starters, there are lots of bad words.

E: Well, I’m going to be the Director of an inappropriate movie about Washington D.C. and there will be lots of bad words.”


E: “Why can’t Donald Trump just be nice? His ties are nice. I like his ties.”


E: “Can we steal a body from that graveyard? I want to make a real Frankenstein.”

Everyday Observations

“Why is that guy trying to make you fall in love with him?” Said my eight year old about the restaurant manager of a diner we frequent.


E: “Mom, I got sweaty AND handsome today…. just like Harry Styles.”


At bedtime, as I’m getting into my son’s bed to lie next to him, he says, “Stop, wait!”

“How come?” I ask while giving him a death stare and wondering what he’s trying to negotiate for now;more snacks, water, bathroom, etc.

“Take a load off. Go get your comfy cozies on so you can relax while you’re putting me to bed.”


J: “Mom, your memory is so bad.”

Me: “I know, I forgot I already got the milk out and just opened the fridge to get the milk again.”

J: “Mom, what did I just say?”

I repeat back what he’s just said and give him a quizzical look.

J: “Just checking your memory.”


E: “I got sent to the principal’s office and I didn’t run away from her! I wasn’t even scared!”


J: “Is there such thing as kid jail? How bad is it?”


E: “Mom, can you go away and never come back? I only want Daddy now. It’s better that way.”


J: “What’s re-incarnated mean again?” We explain reincarnation….

“OK, then I’m definitely reincarnated. I think I’m the last survivor of the Titanic. She died a few weeks before I was born.”


“Who is Harvey Weinstein?” my five year old asked after overhearing an NPR news bite.

Me (so many different ways to approach this one): “A man that says inappropriate stuff to women.”

He sits quietly with that answer for a minute. “Oh, yeah. You mean like the stuff Daddy says to you?”


While the family is busting out dance moves in the kitchen, “Stop!” J says.

“Why, we’re having fun?” I ask.

“Because only I can be the cool one.”

Bedtime Stories: Mommy’s Encounters With Leonardo DiCaprio

Sometimes we forget about the hysterical or cool things that have happened while we’re out having fun into the wee hours of the morn. We especially forget if many years have passed. If you would have told me ten years ago I’d be resurrecting stories from my crazy nights out in order to up my bedtime storytelling game with my two sons, I’d have called you a liar.  Nevertheless, there I was, sharing the details with the kids. Read More Here

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