When I was a kid, I was allergic to grapefruit. It caused the inside of my mouth to break out in multiple, painful sores. This would have been easily avoidable except for one thing: I loved grapefruit. I guess one (or both) of my parents loved it, too, because when it was in season and affordable, it was in our house. My mother tried to keep it from me, or maybe she tried to keep me from it. It didn’t matter. If it was around, I’d find it. And I’d eat as much as I could before the allergies kicked in and the pain forced me to stop.
I was all of 5 when this was going on. And I refused to stop eating the grapefruit. At some point, my allergy just went away. Maybe I drowned it. I don’t know. But I do know that I still relish grapefruit. Whether I’m eating it or squeezing it for juice, it’s one of my favorite fruits.
As we’re in the middle of grapefruit season here in southern California, you can imagine my joy when I pedaled past this on the side of the street:
Needless to say, I took my fair share. Really. I actually left plenty for others. I mean, for all I know, there’s a kid out there who’s doing all she can to nip a grapefruit allergy in the bud. And I want to make sure she can get her fruit fix. It might be painful, but it sure is worth it.