The perfect gift

I'm convinced watermelon was the forbidden fruit

Twice in my life, I’ve been given a whole watermelon for my birthday. One year, when I was a young teenager, my mom said, with a twinkle in her eye, “Go up to your room. Your birthday present is on your bed.” And there sat a green watermelon with a big, red bow tied around it. Because it was all mine, I was allowed to eat the heart right out of it—guilt-free.

This year my friend Judy planned months ahead to give me a birthday watermelon. She planted a watermelon patch and gave me occasional updates on her fruits' progress. She’d heard me say many times how much I loved watermelon and was convinced it was the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden—irresistibly delicious! What I didn’t know, in this age of engineered fruits and vegetables, is that the seeded variety is so much sweeter and so much juicier than the seedless type I’d become accustomed to.

Almost better than the flavor of my garden-grown watermelon, though, was the overall experience of eating it. From the moment I pierced the melon and heard it snap open, I was transported to the blissful, carefree time of my childhood. I slurped and sucked each slice with abandon, and I spit out seeds without complaint, actually kind of enjoying the challenge of finding those little buggers with my tongue. I felt positively seven years old again, and, for just those moments, I didn’t want to wipe the smile off my face any more than I wanted to wipe off the juice. It was the perfect gift.