The watermelon didn’t go bad.
Today this feels like a personal victory.
It’s not that it’s my job to make sure it doesn’t go bad, but I’m the one who usually cuts it up so that it won’t go bad. But this particular watermelon was purchased before we left home for five days–two weeks ago–so I was certain it had gone bad.
My plan was to cut up some of the watermelon to have a healthy snack on the road, but then I decided that was too messy for the car. I left it behind, hoping our friend and dog sitter would eat it up.
And so there it sat–at the back of the fridge, for two weeks, waiting to be cut.
Why does cutting watermelon feel like such a monumental task?
Where was that video I saw on Facebook that told me how best to cut it? I had used that method–what WAS that method?–and it worked!
Why can’t I REMEMBER things that I’ve actually done?
What is WRONG with me?
“Honey, why don’t you cut the watermelon?” my wife asked.
Good question, I thought.
Why DON’T I cut the watermelon? She made SOUP for dinner–she makes EVERY dinner. She makes me breakfast EVERY DAY!
Isn’t cutting the watermelon the LEAST I could do–for her? for us?
“CUT THE WATERMELON, ANNIE” (internal shout).
“But what if it’s bad?” (internal question).
See if I cut the watermelon and it’s bad, I’ll feel bad. I’ve wasted food. I’ve wasted a perfectly good, delicious watermelon. A watermelon that would be wonderful to have right NOW for an afternoon snack.
“justcutthewatermelon,annie. Evenifit’sbadit’sallgood.” (wise internal whisper).
So I cut the watermelon.
It was good.