Likely my first memory of the most memorable food is from when I was about 8: four of us cousins were visiting Opa and Oma (our grandparents), and after lunch we had watermelon for desert. This led to an extended discussion of the possibilities of growing watermelons out your ears if you swallowed the seeds. With Opa leading the imagining and Oma carefully staying out of the discussion, we enjoyed our desert for quite a while. Unfortunately, I can't provide you with a picture of those imaginings, but they were quite in depth. (That was in Suriname.)
A couple years later, there was a general family food fight in North Carolina; it got so intense that both the baby and Oma got involved this time, not to mention Aunt Debbie and the rest of us children, as well as maybe some other adults. If you know Oma, this may be difficult for you to imagine, so I am including (non-photoshopped) proof.
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| Oma and some of us grandkids |
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| Serious wars, obviously. |
As we continued to grow up, our background was the site of much more watermelon eating and seed spitting, except by the member of the family who wasn't up to trying to spit most of the time.
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| a backyard picnic, without watermelon unfortunately |
Today, I began to try to pass on the tradition to our littlest generation. Watermelon fun in the backyard with baths following, another memory, another place, more family. First, we had to make sure that watermelon was a good snack, and then we began the process of trying to spit seeds... I got chunked a time or two... There's still half of a watermelon left, so maybe next time I will be able to get some pictures of the fun.
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