Eating A 'Simmon

Eating A 'Simmon

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The fence rows that bordered nearly every field of Grandpa's farm were thick with different trees.  These weren't really large trees, but numerous and also many different kinds of wild fruit trees were found there.

I remember wild pears, and apples, walnut, black walnut, pecan, muskedime vines, black berry vines and persimmon trees.

Grandpa loved persimmons.  We would walk along the fence row and he would look at his crops.

One day he reached up and grabbed a persimmon and polished it on his over-alls.  He took a hearty bite out of it and "uuummed and awed" and described how good it was.  I could stand it no longer, and decided I wanted one too.

He reached up and grabbed me a simmon (that's what we called them), and I polished it on my britches just like he did.  I took a great big ol' bite outta that dude and was instantly in a horrible fix!

I didn't know those things would pucker you up!  My lips pooched out and promptly froze solid in a smooched position.  My mouth locked up so hard I couldn't even spit out that horribly bitter thing that had affected me in such a horrible way.

I tried to talk, but couldn't get out anything.  Never had I experienced anything so terrible!  What did Grandpa do?  He laughed, and laughed, and laughed.  He was bent over and slapping his thigh, while the guffaws rolled.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing!

Here I was on the threshold of death, my jaws locked solid, my lips pooched out in a perpetual smooch big enough to kiss the mudflaps off the grain truck, slobbers running down my chin onto my chest (I didn't wear shirts), with this nasty thing in my mouth. (I still hadn't gotten it out of my mouth yet!)

I just knew I'd be locked in the monkey kissing posture forever.  In my mind's eye I could see the picture of a monkey I'd seen all puckered up and that's the way I was gonna stay for the rest of my life.

And all Grandpa could do was laugh.  Now, I was getting mad.  No, I was getting MAD!  Within what seemed like an hour, (probably only a few minutes or so), them two big ol' things on the front of my mouth (called lips), began to relax, and my jaw relaxed enough to release the bitter piece of fruit from my mouth.  It fell to the ground and I took off running to the water pump.

Never, I repeat never, did I ever try another persimmon from Grandpa again!  I decided right then, I would let everyone else in the world have my share!

George Cavaness

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