As a little girl I couldn't eat enough watermelon. My mother has dozens of pictures of me with watermelon. Eating it in my little plastic pool. Eating it sitting at the picnic table. Me with a big smile across my face and two rinds in my hands. My name was synonymous with watermelon, until that one July 4th when I was 12.
July 4th is still my favorite holiday, but when I was a child it meant.....loads of watermelon. I awoke that day with my mind only on one thing. Watermelon. The morning passed with talk of fireworks, and a visit to the swimming pool. After hours splashing at the pool and working up an appetite, the only thing I could think of was that big melon sitting on the kitchen floor. Hanging up my towel and swimsuit I proceeded to the kitchen only to discover that the melon hadn't been cut or refrigerated. Well, no bother, I could fix that. I began to carve up the watermelon and saved about 5 slices for myself. Taking my heap out onto the porch, I sat on the steps and gobbled the melon. Wow, that was so good I really needed a few more slices. What's 3 more slices....it's mostly water anyway. I gorged myself on that warm watermelon. I lost count as to how much I ate.
Night descended and the fireworks flew into the air. I OOOed and AAWWWed with everyone else but I could feel that things weren't all that right in my tummy. I wrapped up the night with some ice cream and then headed to bed. Two hours later began the night that will live in infamy. I don't know if my mind has exaggerated the experience over time or it really did happen the way I remember, but it was one of the worst barfing experience that I can recall. There was no end to the amount of watermelon that I threw up. And no it's not all water. I was sure I was dying a gruesome death at 12 years of age.
Needless to say I do not like watermelon. The smell alone makes me wretch. My advice. Don't gorge yourself on warm watermelon because it isn't just water.