And, no, I don’t mean our friends from New Zealand.
Hello, my little kiwi friend. I ate several of your compatriots over the weekend. Perhaps it’s rather gauche of me to talk about this in front of you, but they were quite tasty. If it makes you feel any better, my sweet kiwi, you won’t have long to mourn them before you too fall victim to my om nom nom nomming.
I must say kiwi, that you are not going gently into that good night. For this, I both respect and am annoyed by you. I must say that it takes an impressive amount of persistence to remain ensconced in the safety of your own skin. I do, however, wish that you would contemplate giving up. For, you see, I am very hungry. Also? I have a tendency to cut myself when forced to use sharp objects. Like, say, the knife that I brought with me to cut you open. The knife that is currently stuck in the “closed” position. The knife that I am slightly worried about stabbing myself whilst attempting to maneuver it into the “open” position.
If only you could be easily peeled with those plastic safety scissors that they give to kindergartners. Then, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
At least until the om nom noms.
As soon as I saw that picture, I started thinking about how annoying kiwi is to get out of the peel. I always end up slicing half of the fruit away with the peel, and that makes me a sad panda.
I’ve never tried to peel one, but I have fought with a pineapple. Those suckers are tough too!