The story of my Birth

Once upon a time, a man and a woman got married. The woman was Samoan, and her name was Liz. The man was a severely white European, named Johnny. They lived in NZ.
They brought a house in Auckland, and had two lovely children, the eldest a girl named Raewyene, and the youngest a boy named Ethan. They hated each other. Not lovely.
Well, the backyard of the 3-bed-roomed house was GIGANTIC, yaow, Liz and Johnny made flowerbeds and vegetable gardens, and planted lots of lovely fruits trees... orange, persimmon, lemon and lime, fijoas, blackberry, and vine too, grapes and passionfruit, and many other things I can not remember, even though I go there once a fortnight.
Many years passed. When Raewyene was 16, her cat, 16, died, euthenased, and scarred her forever. When Raewyene became older, she yearned for someone to replace her poor cat with.
Then, when she and her partner, Doug, went to Raewyene's parents house, they saw there was a HUGE as feijoa hanging off a branch.
"It's the size of a newborn baby!" everyone exclaimed. Raewyene invited her parents to have it, but they declined. "You find, you keep," they insisted. When you tapped it, the feijoa was full to the brim with juicy fleshy inside, but Doug and Raewyene darn't cut the fruit open.
So, Doug and Raewyene kept it warm and snug, intil, nine months after, they heard scratching from inside. They gave the feijoa and tap. It was holllow!
Then, the feijoa cracked. Doug and Raewyene clung to each other as out of the huge feijoa came a BIIIIIIG feijoa-smelling "BRRRUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRP!"
Then, the whole feijoa fell apart to reveal a baby with shockingly red-hair, gigantic feet and purple eyes, wrapped in a feijoa blanket, that started screaming hard out.
The end.

Love to y'all,
neina-marie, a buzzin' bee