The Cast: Aurora (told to), Cindy, (present), Dia (elusive), Erich (Checker of Poison), Myself (About to Burst), Others (also present).
It was the summer of 1992 and I really had to pee.
If you are unfamiliar with Disney’s Gravity Falls, then you probably didn’t know that June 22nd (Monday—two days ago) was Summerween. Summerween is basically Halloween, but in June. This year my family decided to celebrate Summerween and have candy, decorations, a scary movie, and the traditional Jack-O-Melon. A Jack-O-Melon is like a Jack-O-Lantern, but made with a watermelon instead of a pumpkin.
Aurora and I picked up the watermelons and carved them. It was messy. While carving a watermelon is easier than carving a pumpkin, it is a lot more messy. There was splashing. Lot’s of it. So, pro tip: Have a straw handy.
As we were scooping out the insides of the watermelons, the juices would build up and we figured out the best way to prevent the splishy-splashy was to drink it. We just needed straws.
This worked out great. But then, Aurora began to get full (she had been consuming the watermelon and the she just couldn’t drink a whole lot of the juice). Well, I certainly wasn’t going to let it all go to waste, so I drank her watermelon juice also. Pro tip: It’s easier to drink the juice while it’s still inside the watermelon. Also, use a wide straw, as small bits are more likely to get jammed in the narrow straws.
As my stomach began to fill with watermelon water, it started to move the excess into my bladder. As this began to create some discomfort I said, “Oof. It’s like the summer of 92’ all over again.”
To which Aurora queried (Oh she queried, no question, it was a query), “What?”
“The summer of 92’. Have I not told you about that?”
“Well then, let me tell you a tale…
In Sanpete County they have, or used to have, the Mormon Miracle Pageant. People from all over the world would come to see it, be in it… It was a BIG deal. It was also a lot of fun to be in it. The whole community would get involved and have all sorts of fun.
After all the rehearsals were over, they would have a big ole Watermelon Bust.”
“It’s where they would bring a ton of watermelon, slice it up, and you eat it. Now, shh. Let me finish my story. Where was I? Oh yes… They would have a great big Watermelon Bust to celebrate all the hard work and have some fun before all the performances and more hard work.
Well, like I said, they would bring like a ton of watermelons and just set them up on a table, slice them into wedges and just let the cast members grab ‘em until it was all gone. So much fun.
Anyway, so, you know the best part of the melon right?”
“Well, yes. But more specifically: The tip of the wedge.”
Author’s Note: I feel it important to familiarize you, dear reader, with my ‘Tip Philosophy’. My Tip Philosophy is simply this, the tip is the best part (referring to food, specifically). All the food energy/flavor/goodness/yummy-yum-yums flow to the center of the food and focuses in the tip. It’s basic science—like how the weight of a person wearing high-heeled shoes has their weight focused/multiplied into that heel-point to where it could cause damage to a floor (look it up, it’s true). My Tip Philosophy uses that same principle. Think about it. What part of the watermelon is the best? That first bite of the wedge, the tip. What part of the pizza is the best? No, not the crust (nasty). The tip of the pizza is the best. That first bite. Mmmmm… What part of the spear is the best? The tip. Because it lets the rest of the spear pierce the target’s flesh and go deep into the enemy to render them lifeless… Wait. Sorry. Wrong story. We now return you to our original broadcast: Busted!
“The tip is where all the flavor focuses and is super juicy. So, Erich and I hatched a plan to get as many tips as possible.”
“Hey! Hold on now. We didn’t just stand around the table bitting off all the tips of the watermelon wedges. That would be wrong.”
“No, we waited until someone picked one up, and then we would ‘check for poison’.”
“Check for poison. Ya’ know, ya’ bite the tip off the watermelon and say, ‘Just checking for poison.’ and move along. Well, you also have to tell them that it’s safe to eat. Otherwise, you’re just a jerk easting the best part of their watermelon.”
It was here that Aurora rolled her eyes at me. I would have rolled them back, but my hands were all wet and sticky from the watermelon carving. Yeah, so, back to the story.
“We—Erich and I—did all kinds of tricks. We would just walk right up to some people—like your mom*, ‘Checking for poison. (take a bite) You’re good.’ and then walk away. Sometimes we would sneak up to somebody and lean around front, from behind, and take a bite. ‘Just checking for poison. You’re fine.’ Then move onto the next
victim person. This went on and on. Once in awhile one of our friends would walk up to us and say, ‘Here, check it for poison.’ and we would bite the tip off their watermelon. Ahhh… good times.
Now, mind you, we only did this to people that we knew wouldn’t get upset (mostly). I mean, come on, ya’ gotta be nice to people. Otherwise, you’re just a jerk eating their watermelon tips.
The best was when we would team up—because there comes a point in time when nobody wants their watermelon checked for poison anymore, the game is over.”
“Yeah, like before the first time.”
“Shh! Quiet you. I’m telling a story. So, anyway, Erich and I would have one of us distract, from the front, pretending to check for poison, and the other one of us would come up from behind, so when the person moved their watermelon away from the frontal-attack, the wedge would move over the owner’s shoulder only to be bitten by the other one of us. Oh, it was brilliant.”
“Hey. Do you want to hear the story or not?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I? I have to stay here and finish carving my Jack-O-Melon.”
“Dang tootin’. So, quiet. That’s called a captive audience. Anyway, it got to the point where Erich and I would have to chase some of our friends around to try and check for poison. The only person that never got checked was Dia. She was quick and agile. Like a ninja. She would just stare into your soul with her cute smile on her face, and laugh at us, as we tried—unsuccessfully—repeatedly to check for poison in her watermelon. Dang, she was fast.”
“Quiet. Where was I? Oh yes. So, after it was all over—all the watermelon eaten—Erich and I did some rough math. Based upon the size of the bite we had taken from the approximate number of people we had taken bites from… Add in the number of watermelon slices we each had eaten… And we loosely figured that we had each eaten about eight watermelons.”
“Wait, it gets better. So, I don’t care what science might say about what I’m about to tell you, some people say it’s impossible. I don’t care what they say. I lived it. I know what happened. It was awful. I’ll never forget it.
What’s the first half of the word ‘watermelon’?”
“Exactly! Watermelon is half water. It’s in the name.”
“That’s not how it works dad..”
Erich and I had taken in too much water. Way too much. As a result, about every half-hour We had to pee. A lot.
At first, I just thought it would only be like this for a little while. Around one o’clock in the morning, it wasn’t funny anymore. About then the pee-breaks occurred about every hour. For the whole. Next. Day.
By day three, they had slowed to about every two to three hours. As we would walk about town, we would have to stop and pee—a lot. Sometimes we would time it so that we were at the local gas station to make things easier. Sometimes stopping at the house of someone we knew, ‘Pardon us, we really gotta’ pee. Can we use your bathroom?’ and then thank them as we left.
By day four, it was every four hours. I know because I timed it. I’m telling you, when your body has to pee that much, you watch things.”
“Was your pee pinkish-red?”
“Eww! No! That would mean there was something wrong with us?”
“You were peeing every hour. Something was already wrong with you.”
“Fair point. But no. The pee was just clear. A sign of hydration. Lots of clear pee… Very hydration… I know what I said.
Yeah, so between all the watermelon juice I drank from your watermelon and all the juice I drank from my watermelon… I really need to go to the bathroom.”
Aurora closed her eyes, slowly shook her head, and said, “Just go to the bathroom then dad.”
So I did.
*Aurora’s mom is Cindy, for those who are new to my blog.
And seriously, I don’t care what science says here, here, here, here, here, here, here, or here. It was my bladder. I know what happened to me.
It had been the summer of 1992, and I really had to pee.