Every so often, Jeremy will bring home a bag of grapefruit from the store. I usually steer clear as I'm not a huge fan, and I think they're a pain to eat. Jeremy does not. Obviously, because he's the one who buys them. He eats grapefruit like oranges. Just rips the peel off and eats the segments, skin and all. Yuck!
I slice a grapefruit in half and use a steak knife to separate the skin from each little segment of fruit. Then I sprinkle on a light layer of sugar (grapefruit is so sour). And for the next 45 minutes, I try to pry the fruit from the rind. I get squirted with juice. The weird tang on my tongue makes me want to brush my teeth. And then my plate, which is filled with juice and seeds inevitably gets knocked by a child, spilling all over the table and floor.
It's enough work and enough mess to make me forget that I wanted a snack. I look at that bag in the fridge and say "forget it." If I have to go through that tediousness, I'd better be getting some chocolate.