I love raisins, always have.

I could work up a serious drool just thinking about raisins and nobody had to worry about me abusing drugs but they better hide the raisins.

In that far off, mythical region called, “The brain” I have always believed that anything fit to eat must have raisins in it. Take oatmeal for instance, and bread pudding, cranberry sauce and mincemeat pies, along with turkey dressing, and; Oh well you get the idea.

My sister, The Snapping Turtle, came to me one fine day with a big smile and offered me some raisins.

I should have known there was something wrong as soon as I saw that smile. And I had forgotten the only thing she ever gave me was the measles.

I’m sure you have heard the old saying, “Beware of sisters bearing gifts.” but, hey, I was dumber than a stump.

I sat there in a sense of raisin induced euphoria chewing the delicious fruit and soon my wonderful sister returned and offered me the box.

My first thought was that she had miraculously been converted to ‘nice’ but I should have known better.

I was considering my good fortune as I grabbed a big handful of raisins and jammed them into my mouth and began to chew but almost immediately stopped chewing. Something was terribly wrong. I had never tasted anything so vile.

Sis looked at me, still smiling but trying to look innocent as she asked, “What’s wrong?”

I was spitting and sputtering trying to rid my mouth of the abomination thrust upon, or I should say, ‘into’ it when she volunteered, “Oh, you poor boy. You must have eaten some bad raisins!”

I had never heard of a bad raisin in my life until then.

She took the box and left to return a short time later to offer it to me again. Optimistically I again sampled the raisins. Delicious, the way raisins are supposed to be.

She left, again with the raisin box in her possession, to return a short time later offering me the box with the words, “Here, you can have the rest, I’ve had enough.”

Wow, my dear sweet wonderful sister has been miraculously changed over night!

Raisin box in hand, I reached in and grabbed a big handful of raisins and, shoved them into my mouth and began chewing.

Oh, gag, choke, spit and sputter. I never tasted anything so nasty.

It was while I was choking that she enquired, “Do you know where raisins come from?”

Still spitting but somewhat curious I asked, “A raisin tree?”

To which she answered, “No you silly thing, come with me and I’ll show you.”

I followed her out beside the barn to where the rabbit pens were and she reached down and picked up a perfect, raisin size rabbit dropping and held it out to me as she smilingly said, “See, raisin!”

We do learn. Sometimes the process is slow but we do learn. I still like raisins but, trust the snapping turtle? No way.

It seems the politicians are trying to feed us a lot of stuff that they want us to believe is raisins but when you taste it you learn real quick that it never came from no raisin tree.

You have a nice day now you hear, Chaz

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