I am 71 years old, OK?
NEVER before in my life have I cut into a watermelon and had it explode all over me, the kitchen, the floor, the dishwasher, the rug, the counter, my clothes and shoes ...and, if I had had my mouth open in the line of 'fire', down my gullet, no doubt.
Disgusting! Infuriating! Maddening! (Not to mention a horRENdous mess!)
I have just returned back home with another watermelon, 'hand-picked,' per Randall's grocery personnel, and hand-carried out to my car.
I'm almost afraid to go out to the car and retrieve the ****** thing!!
Hang on while I try and do so, OK?
OK. Deed accomplished. Hot damn, they're heavy, aren't they?
I only hit my head twice on the freezer while trying to insert the durned thing into a large-enough drawer!
All right. It's 'inserted'. Can I be excused now? "No, you may not!" shouts Mother, loudly.
(To be continued, no doubt.)