Married Life – Michael Giacchino

Hi little boys and girls, let me tell you a story.

One fine bright and sunny cheerful little Sunday morning. A boy by the name John found some seeds in his backyard. He went to plant them and they grew into seedlings. Every day, John tends to his plants carefully and watched them grow.

Day by day as the plants grew, John became attached to the plants and devoted his time to them. They soon became sturdy apple trees, blooming with luscious leaves. It bore fruit every few days, and John was very proud that his hard work paid off. He decided to share his fruit of labour with his neighbours, who were also farmers and gardeners as well. “These apples are so crunchy and sweet! I think my neighbours will love them as much as I do! ” He thought to himself happily as he picks the apples from the trees.

The next day, he carried a basket of ripe red apples to his each neighbour and shared with them. With every bite the farmers took, he waited with anticipation of their delighted faces.  He watched and waited when everyone’s face remain expressionless for a moment, before sinking into disappointment when their faces cringed. Everyone told him that his apples were either too tasteless, not crunchy, nor sweet. He went home feeling bitter as not a single one of them offered a positive comment or some advice.

John felt defeated. There, just when he thought his hard work has finally paid off, no one is there to appreciate it, and even put-down on his fruit of labour. It was like a slap on his face. Every heavy step he took, his anger, frustration, with a tad of annoyance at his neighbours grew. The soup of revenge was slowly boiling, and on the very night, he went home not only with a heavy heart, but also with a heavy mind. John couldn’t take it any longer.

The next day, not a single farmer in the town was seen. Everyone thought they went on a strike, or disappeared, until when a passer-by saw that on John’s every single apple tree, there were heads of the farmers on where apples should have been. Their heads laid limply on the sides of the branches with their tongues dangling. Inside every farmer’s mouth, a bright red juicy apple was shoved. As the passer-by walked, she screamed in shock as John’s body swayed on the biggest apple tree, suspended by a rope, with his apples laid around his triumphant face.

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Moral of the story? Think twice about insulting someone, or grow oranges instead. 
Hmm I think I’m playing too much country story. Time to kick the habit.