KYOO-kyoo-mis suh-TEE-vuhs

Cucumber found itself in a pickle…wanting strawberry ice cream.

—Jig3125

The cucumber.

Green.

Cool.

Crisp.

Until one day…

It found itself in a pickle.

Not literally.

Well…

maybe eventually.

But first came the crisis.

It wanted strawberry ice cream.

Not some fancy cucumber-lime situation somebody invented at a trendy restaurant.

Strawberries ice cream.

Sweet.

Cold.

Pink.

Completely appropriate for a cucumber.

Or so everyone thought…

“You’re a cucumber.”

“You’re supposed to be refreshing.”

“You’re supposed to go in salads.”

“Maybe a sandwich.”

“Pickle, eventually.”

The cucumber wasn’t interested.

“I know what I am.”

“That’s not the question.”

“I know what I’m supposed to taste like.”

“Still not the question.”

The question was:

What do you want?

And apparently…

the answer was strawberry ice cream.

That’s when things got complicated.

Because people love categories.

Fruit.

Vegetable.

Sweet.

Savory.

Pickled.

Frozen.

We like everything to stay in its lane.

But desire doesn’t always respect categories.

Sometimes a pickle wants to be taken seriously.

Sometimes the thing everyone expects you to become…

isn’t the thing you actually want to be.

Maybe that’s why the cucumber found itself in a pickle.

Not because it had done anything wrong.

Still…

there’s nothing wrong with wanting strawberry ice cream.

You’re a cucumber.

Especially if you’re a cucumber.

—Jig3125