I love watermelon. Some of my favorite memories are of my parents bringing out a watermelon on a summer evening and us eating it outside with the juice dripping down our faces and arms. We’d be running around bare-footed. If we got really messy, Dad would drag the hose over, squirt off us off, and then we’d run around some more to dry off before we could go in. Sweet memories for sure. We would have seed-spitting contests and remind one another that if you swallowed a seed, either a watermelon would grown in your stomach or you would pee the bed. My parents sprinkled a little salt on the watermelon and that’s how I thought it was eaten, but nowadays I don’t use salt. The good ones are so sweet, they don’t need it.
I should buy a small one.
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