Okay, Amy made me remember a watermelon story of my own.
When Andrew was about two years old, Thomas and I planted a big field of watermelons on my parents' property. When they ripened they did so all at once, and we had dozens of melons to harvest. Now Andrew, his father's son, loved watermelons. His little two year old legs trotted back and forth between my Mom's house and the watermelon patch, helping to carry melons. (the small yellow meater ones) While making this journey he accidentally dropped one of the melons and it burst open. So he just sat down on the ground and started eating it right then and there.
After he'd finished what he could of that melon, he got another one, walked into the house, raised it high above his little head and we barely stopped him before he smashed it all over my Mom's kitchen floor!
When he was about one year old, we were at a get-together at my sisters' house, and he had the whole end of a watermelon (bowl shaped). He sat down on her front porch, put the watermelon end between his legs and then would lean down, pause, look at everyone and say "bipe!" (bite!), put his whole face down into the melon and get a big bite. When he would raise up his whole face had watermelon juice on it.
Oh yeah! What memories!
4 comments:
How cute! Jae
Awww, how cute! :-)
Lori, I love your journal. Cute story. These are the kind of stories that make up a family history, and well worth preserving and passing down. Smiles, David
One year they had planted watermelons in one of John's fields. After the harvest we went out, sat on the tail gate and just ate the heart our of several melons. No napkins, no salt, no fork. Just us and the watermelons. It was fun like two kids. Paula
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