Just saying watermelon makes me smile. Try it. Are you smiling?
|This is the Watermelon Trance similar in look and feel to the food coma |
one experiences after eating Thanksgiving dinner.
I’ve been waiting all summer to take these pictures. Channing + watermelon = one sticky, sweet mess of cuteness. He couldn’t quite figure out how to hold that wedge, choosing to keep his hands balled into fists at times. The tilt of the head was the same, regardless of the slice. And he enjoyed every last bite. Every. Last. Bite.
Then we moved on to summersaults in the grass. I will refrain from sharing the photos Channing took of me. Mostly, they're just trees and sky. His aim was a little off. He did get one nice shot of my mid-section, shirt sliding toward my armpits as I stood on my head. Ha!
Followed by bubble blowing on the porch. If you’re particularly observant, you may just notice Channing’s secret hiding space for his bubble factory as you pass through our front door. He’s been stashing his bottle of bubbles in there for several weeks now.
Now that we’ve neighbors next door and it’s someone else’s turn to water the heck out of their new sod, it’s that much more enjoyable to play in the pools of run-off that collect on the sidewalk, especially when you can dig just one little finger into the crack where lawn meets concrete and come up with a gooey muddy mess time after time.
Each time he’d pull his finger out, he’d prompt me to shriek, ‘Eeewwww! Gross!!!!’ and laugh as he rinsed it clean in the puddle before doing it again. And again. And again. And yet again.
I know. I know. Random toe photo to wrap up this post. They're cute though. I couldn't resist sharing. Don't you want to just give 'em a quick nibble?