Grapefruits and their pips ... a metaphor

I observed today, after breakfast, that MTM had six pips in his grapefruit at breakfast whilst I had only one. He laughed and said that it was typical of his life, he always had more pips than anyone else. He ruffled Bongo’s ears and said “in the grapefruit of life, YOU are NOT one of the pips”. 
Aw ... :-)

I said “No, that’s me, I am a ruddy great big pip in your life” (I have been  difficult to live with this week, he puts up with a lot from me). He smiled and disagreed. Aw ... again, he’s brilliant isn’t he? 

He’s gone out for a haircut now and whilst he is out, I am cleaning the beads I made yesterday and have been pondering and turning over the pips in my mind which have now become a metaphor for all the crap that life chucks at you ... the proverbial fag-end in your beer can or stone in your left shoe.

When MTM gets pips, he just spits them out, chucks ‘em away and forgets. Whereas I swallow, digest and slowly absorb, therefore allowing them poison me from the inside out. I should learn to spit like MTM.