Disturbingly Curious About Fruit

I have been keeping close tabs on the pomegranate tree in our backyard, astounded by the volume of fruit that continues to grow. The branches are craned near the ground from the weight of the blooms. They seem to enjoy growing in fours. I am skeptical that one branch can truly sustain a quad of pomegranates.

I must admit, I have no idea how to grow anything. In fact, all the hype I made over the lemon tree/bush? It died. The lemons grew to about the size of a quarter then went brown and fell off without warning. Two years; ZERO LEMONS. That's how bad I am at growing stuff.

So clearly I am abnormally fascinated by the seemingly burgeoning pomegranate tree. How did this come to be? Is there any way I could screw this up?

Tonight as I checked on the pomegranate situation, still in awe at finding yet more blooms morphing into fruit, I noticed a gnarly gross one. Well who wants to know what baby pomegranates look like inside?

ME.

My brain has been hard at work imagining what magic goes on inside the skin. Curiosity had to be satisfied:

Um, yeah. That is what is inside as it turns out: beige little arils (I had to look up what the little yummy bits are technically named) ensconced in a bright yellow sponge. It smelled vaguely of pomegranates, not as sweet, more sharp. 

At this point I realized how ridiculous I was being; chopping an infant pomegranate in half simply for the purpose of gawking. 

Sorry if this post is lame.