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My wife hates watermelon candy.

This has concerned me for a while, because as a kid watermelon was perhaps the second most coveted flavor of candy.  The first was cherry. The color of the candy indicated its priority in my childhood: the red candies were always better.  Since watermelon was always red … it was better than its cousins of orange, green, purple, or blue … and God-forbid yellow.

I like watermelon candy.

The other day we were at the grocery store and my wife was jonesing for watermelon.  She left me and came back with several packs of pre-cut watermelon from the produce department.  She was extremely enthusiastic and excited about the forthcoming fruit purchase.

I’m not a huge watermelon fan.  I think the middle of it, the heart as we call it down South, is good, but I’m not a big fan of spitting out seeds while I eat something.

My wife loves watermelon.

My wife hates watermelon candy.

Last night I asked her why she likes watermelon but hates watermelon candy.  The apparent contradiction had captured my attention.  It was my assumption she had not identified this conflict yet.  So, I fully expected to win her my side, that she would see the light of the goodness hidden in watermelon candy.  She didn’t.

“Watermelon candy doesn’t taste like watermelon,” she said.

The candy never tastes like the real thing.

My wife isn’t fooled.  She knows the real thing from the fake, and given the choice between the two: she loves the real and hates the fake.

There is always going to be a bend in the hearts of men to choose the easy, sweeter option over the more difficult, authentic one.

Sin is that inclination.  Deception is its motivation.

We all have our own watermelon candy.  I think its time to trade it in.

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