The kids just finished off our first watermelon of the season.
Because I kinda hate watermelon.
What's that you say? "Watermelon tastes like summer." "It's sweet and juicy." "One melon feeds a whole crowd for $4."
Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Watermelon tastes good, but I really don't think a slice of watermelon tastes any better than a ripe peach or a sweet orange or a perfect pear....all of which are conveniently sized as single servings.
First, there's the whole cutting part. I don't know about you, but I don't often carve up objects that are larger than basketballs, and when I do, I'm not that good at it. It's hard to cut around it evenly. I'm afraid it's going to roll off the countertop and spread its juicy goodness into every nook and cranny of my kitchen.
And then it's time to eat it, and wouldn't you know, my kids love watermelon. So they eat and eat and eat. At least 15 cups of watermelon juice end up spread over the table, the chairs, and the floor. Hands and faces are coated in the sticky juice. And somehow they still ingest enough to distend their stomachs, until it all turns to pee and they're hungry again eight minutes later.
Yes, that's a real post-watermelon-gorging-session pic of Zoodle from a few days ago.
And then I've got messy kids, a sticky table and floor, and at least half a watermelon that I have to somehow fit in my refrigerator. Because, you know, there's always so much extra room in there.
That rotund, overgrown juice container we call "watermelon" is my summer nemesis, and this year, I'm tempted to say that the first melon is also the last.
And don't even get me started on pineapple.