Watermelon

When Jon and I are married and have fun little Sunday night dinners with our friends, we will not serve watermelon. Jon and I love watermelon. L-O-V-E it. Unfortunately, our love has gone to a bit of an
extreme, and we find ourselves at a point where we are unable to share this love for others at dinner parties for the unforeseeable future. It just simple isn't in our budget and we simple lack the self control necessary to maintain human-like characteristics when the fruit is placed in front of us.

It's dinnertime. I instruct Jon to cut the watermelon. He does so, leaving half of it uncut while chopping the other half into pieces and putting them into a bowl. We sit down to eat with the bowling ball sized bowl filled with watermelon before us. "Great," I think to myself. "Half a watermelon. This can be the fruit we have at dinner for the next several nights." We say a prayer, eat the main course, even take a sip of water now and again. The meal is going great!

And then, we start eating the watermelon.

No longer are we two humans sitting down at the dinner table to partake in a humble meal. No. Now we become two thirsting camels who have stomachs that are able to take in and hold 30 gallons of water in just 13 minutes, and suddenly no matter what we do, we can't get enough watermelon into our mouths and our forks just keep returning to the bowl again and again and we just can't stop ourselves and we keep going and going and going until--

Where did that whole bowl of watermelon go? That bigger than a bloated chicken entire half of a watermelon bowl of fruit go?

In one meal?

Yes--in one meal.

A whole fifty percent of a normal sized watermelon??!!!!

Yes--a whole fifty percent.

And you two don't see this as a problem?

Actually, we do. We just don't plan on trying to fix it anytime soon. And we also don't plan on serving watermelon to our friends at our Sunday night dinners. Our pocketbook, along with our good name, can't afford it.