“Abadabas”

1 year old: I’m a very picky eater. I like lima beans, bananas, and the sourest blueberries. Not much else. One day, my parents try avocados. My life is changed forever. 

1 ½ years old: I eat avocadoes at least once a day. I call them “abadabas,” not fully comprehending the curvature of the consonants. 

2 years old: My parents are simultaneously trying to feed me and entertain my older brother, Robbie. It’s not going well. He needs more attention since I’ve been around. My mom is looking at Robbie as she brings the spoon of green goodness towards my mouth. It’s just out of reach. I grab for the spoon. I’m strong for a baby. It flies out of my mom’s hand and hits my brother in the face. I laugh hysterically with the previous bite still smeared around mouth. Robbie doesn’t seem to like avocados anymore. 

14 years old: My mom teaches me her guacamole recipe. Avocados, Onion, Garlic, Salt, Pepper, Lime, Chili Powder, and Curry Powder. I’m understandably hesitant about the curry. I give it a try and oh my God, she’s a genius.  

18 years old: I go to the grocery store around the corner from my dorm and only get avocados. I eat only them for 5 days straight. 

20 years old: Some douchebag millionaire claims that avocados are the reason millennials can’t buy houses. Because it totally wasn’t the baby boomers who fucked the economy in the first place. Guess I’ll never have a house. 

21 years old: Robbie calls me and tells me that he had an avocado today. Big deal, I think. Then I realize, he hasn’t had an avocado since the great avocado-spoon incident of 1998. He comes over and I make him our mom’s guac to celebrate. 

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-Marie Pruitt

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