What trait keeps me purchasing cantaloupe time after time when I always come home and leave the poor thing on my kitchen counter never to be sliced and eaten?
Fear of knives?
I love cantaloupe. Yet I've killed two already in the past two weeks. My childhood cantaloupe-season memories are filled with images of the crescent-shaped slices my dad would place beside our breakfast bowls. So delicious! And I yearn for the ability to not only put one in my cart, pay for it, and take it home, but to actually cut it and eat it and share it with my family.