I wear a jacket that no tailor made. Inside, I have many small beds, but nobody sleeps in them. When I get old, I turn sweet and soft — but farmers pick me before that, so I survive the journey. What am I?, , I grow underground, but I am not a thief. I have eyes, but I cannot see. If you leave me in the sun too long, I turn green and poison you just a little. Smart farmers store me in the dark. What am I?, , I am a berry, but nobody puts me in a pie. I grow in a crown, not on a tree. My seeds are on the outside, that means, botanically, I am not even a real berry. What am I?, , I start green, end red, and sometimes stop in between as yellow or orange. You call me a vegetable, but I am scientifically a fruit. I contain a poison in my leaves, but my body is loved on pizza.  What am I?, , I blush when I am ripe. I hang with my siblings in a bunch. If you pick me too soon, I will stay sour forever. Farmers measure my sugar with a special tool before harvesting.  What am I?, , I am the most dramatic vegetable in the fridge.If you ignore me for three days, I turn yellow and threaten to leave.When you finally cook me, I cry so hard the whole kitchen steams up.My life motto is: “I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry about me.”What am I?, .

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