My mother will probably cringe my telling this story; however, it’s been one of those humorous memories my three older sisters and I share from when we were very young. One day our mom decided to buy fresh pomegranates to give us girls a special treat. So, she sat us down at the table, each with our section of pomegranate, and unfortunately for her, she left the room, leaving us alone with this strange new fruit. As my sisters and I began to eat the tiny, juicy seed pods, we were fascinated by their taste and how our fingers turned bright red when you squeezed the seeds between your fingers. I’m not going to say which one of my sisters started it, but someone discovered you could pinch the seed pod at a certain point, and it would shoot the tiny seeds up as high as the ceiling. Well, our kitchen ceiling was white, the juice was bright red, there were four of us all shooting our tiny seeds at the ceiling, and you can guess what happened next. Our mother never bought pomegranates for us again. EVER!