Thursday, July 10, 2014

Spoiled Rotten

This morning when I came into the kitchen I was met with a surprise. On the counter was a puddle. An expansive one. Clear, but not water.

Well, not exactly.

Our watermelon rotted.

Poor cat, at first I accused her of knocking over a water glass. She was insulted. Sorry, Minette.

No. No, this teeny, tiny, mini watermelon—home from the grocery store a measly three days—had cracked and spilled faintly foul-smelling water across the counter.

I'm lucky it didn't drip into the crack between the counter and the stove. Ugh.

It was deflated. The rind no longer felt solid, and when touched it had the give of an under-inflated basketball. I've never seen anything like it.

So I'm sharing. Because I've already made four kids poke it, and showed my underwhelmed Mr Lannis (of course this evokes his bemused bafflement by my need to broadcast the peculiarities of Mother Nature and isn't it cool that this happened without a mark on the rind?! Yesterday this entire melon was completely firm! Fascinating... WHY IS HE NOT CAPTIVATED?!).

One torn, soft, putrid watermelon. And please enjoy the dirty splendor of our sink. I'm full of gifts today. You're welcome.

I blame Mr Lannis' defunct grocery shopping. This shit never happens when I'm on duty...


  1. I have never had that happen to me. That's crazy! I agree, perhaps Mr. Lannis needs a lesson on how to watermelon.

  2. I've married a man who can't watermelon! The shame! D: