I Hate Watermelon

I love red, white, and blue. 

In fact, that patriotic palette was not only the color scheme of the high school I attended but also my alma mater. 

My kids have played soccer for Team USA for the past several years. That would be of the YMCA league I am referring to, not the Olympic one.

But speaking of those Olympic Games, yes, you can bet I will be cheering for my country.

I display an American flag on my front porch and my son’s bedroom is decorated with a giant vintage version of those Stars and Stripes, hanging from ceiling to floor.

I love a good baseball or football game; in person, not on television. 

I stand with my hand over my heart when the Pledge of Allegiance is recited and when the National Anthem is sung.

I vote and I pay taxes.

I’ve enjoyed the diverse beauty of many states from sea to shining sea.

I know the lyrics to Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA.” And I still get chills every time I hear it. I may have only been two years old when it was first released, but I was a wide-eyed college student when it was re-released after the tragedy of 2001.

I marvel at every bald eagle sighting and fireworks display.

I am American through and through.

But. 

I hate watermelon. 

I despise it. The taste, the smell, the texture; it all makes me gag. As a kid, it would make me do more than just gag. And despite my family's urging to give it yet another try each and every summer, my taste buds and the fibers of my very being repel this melon with a vengeance that I have no control over. 

I do want to like it, I really do. 

The watermelon is truly a beautiful fruit, inside and out. It’s a sign of summer. It’s a symbol of celebration. I don’t know if there is a happier fruit than the watermelon. 

It brings me a smile when I see it… from a distance. I’m filled with fond nostalgic memories of annual Fourth of July family reunions in the Florida panhandle. When I watch young and old pick up slices from a cheery tablecloth-covered picnic table, I’m reminded of the sacrifices made for the freedom generations have as citizens of this country. I think of the values and principles our nation - one nation under God, the God in which we trust - were founded on.

I may hate the official fruit of the Fourth of July, but I love the USA. I love summertime cookouts, camping, and fireworks. I love this day we celebrate freedom and honor a legacy.

Happy birthday, America. Happy Independence Day, fellow Americans. Now, go enjoy a slice of that happy, disgusting fruit.

* Pictured watermelon modeled by my adorable MawMaw.

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