I hate you, raisin

Grapes are good and juicy. Alicia is very particular about her grapes and will only eat the hard ones that are firm and ripe...the kind that burst when your molars break the skin and juicy grapey goodness flows in your mouth. I can appreciate that. I like grapes, too.

But there are always those grapes that somehow between the time you buy them at the store until you get them home and put them in your favorite bowl that lose their grip on life and fall off the vine. It's hard to say at what point they fall off the vine because clearly they were on the vine when you put the bunch of grapes in the plastic bag at the store, but somewhere along the way from the store to your fridge to your mouth, they fell off. And there is no telling exactly how long they've been off the vine except that they no longer retain their firm gushiness they once had and instead are soft and definitely have a noticably different, less pleasing taste...destined to remain in the bottom of the bag never to be eaten. I feel for these grapes. They were going to be joy and bring goodness to someone's mouth, but instead they are now shunned like the leper that they are.

The only thing worse that a grape could be besides being a shunned leper grape, is a nasty wrinkly raisin. Whoever had the idea that raisins are nature's candy was either really, really old (probably dead now) or was in the grape business looking to expand his market.

Take a look at raisin cookies. I hate raisin cookies. Why in the world would anyone want to ruin a perfectly good cookie with raisins? Add to that the raisins are completely deceitful and cannot be trusted in a cookie...you can't tell a raisin cookie from a chocolate chip cookie until you bite into it thinking you're getting sweet chocolate only to find yourself gagging on a raisin. Why would a raisin disguise itself like a chocolate chip if it didn't have to? But of course it has to. It has to deceive you into thinking you're getting something else.

Raisins are Satan's candy.