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Day 11 – A picture of something you hate.


I know I’m committing treason with this one. Watermelon is an American treasure along with apple pie and the flag. It is at every summer picnic. Also at every picnic, people gushing over how good the watermelon is. “It is so juicy!” “It’s perfectly ripe!” “A Greek god parted the skies and delivered this watermelon on a solid gold platter as a gift to us unworthy peons. We must bow before it.” *munch munch slobber slurp*

Somewhere, probably at the far corner of the picnic, I stand with my plate of potato salad, hotdog and baked beans. At least three times during the picnic, someone will ask me if I’ve had some of the watermelon. “No, I don’t like watermelon.” “REALLY? BUT IT IS SOOOOO GOOD! Just try some. Just one bite.” (side note, my husband is generally one of these people)

Once a year I give in to the peer pressure and have a piece. Once a year the gritty, yet somehow soggy texture hits my mouth. I munch and slurp and try to imagine why this fruit is worshiped above all fruit. I come up with disappointment and a little disgust.

I’m sorry, friends. I’m sorry, Americans. I’m sorry, mankind. I HATE watermelon.