Why I Want to be a Melon


I’m generally indifferent to babies. They used to frighten me, but being around the Watton kiddos changed that a bit. Also, as I get older, I feel less likely to ever have children, partly because I’m older, but mostly because I know what I’d be giving up, and I feel unwilling to give it up.

Two of my closest friends had a baby. Her name is Madelyn, but we call her Melon, and I’ve decided that I want to be just like her.

You see, my favorite thing about Melon is that she doesn’t think at all about how she might be inconveniencing others. She doesn’t worry about how her poop or pee impacts anyone or anything, while, for me, bathroom breaks on road trips are pretty much the most stressful thing ever. It honestly feels rude for me to ask folks to stop a car so I can pee. However, Melon just takes care of her business.

My second favorite thing about Melon is almost the same. She breathes. When she’s reaching for something that’s just inches from her, she doesn’t worry about making it seem like her reach is effortless… she breathes harder in those moments of easy reaching than I do when I’m running a race. It’s not that I want people to think running is effortless for me – I actually just don’t want them to think about me at all, and it seems like the best way to keep people from noticing me is to stop breathing sometimes. I want to be like Melon, because it never occurred to her to give herself permission to breathe. She just breathes.

So, okay, I know that sounds silly, but I honestly admire Melon for those two reasons, and I wish I didn’t have to work so hard to give myself permission to breathe and to pee.

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