Name That Melon

I, for one, cannot

Recently I made an embarrassing confession to my 6-year-old son. Now that I crossed the bridge, it feels time to make it publicly. Mostly because it’s been a long few days with one boy home from school and I don’t have the mental energy to write anything profound this evening. But I believe in building habits, and after writing for three consecutive days, I feel a need to keep the momentum going.

So, the confession. I’m an adult person, now comfortably in my mid-40s. I have a family that depends on me, and I’m partially responsible for their well being. My life has responsibilities — I pay bills, I maintain a house, I know where my children are most of the time. I am reasonably well educated. I graduated with a degree from a fine four-year college more than 20 years ago and I like to think I have continued to learn over the past two decades. I have read Moby Dick, and other well regarded works of literature, and even (sort of) understood them.

I say all this not to toot my own horn, but rather to lay bare the contrast for what I’m about to confess — the dark and humiliating admission I have kept so close.

Which is; I can never remember which one is honeydew and which one is cantaloupe.

No, the world is not ending because I cannot correctly identify a melon. I know I like the green one better, but I don’t recall which one that is. We live in a world now where I can look this information up on my phone at a moments notice, so perhaps that is my justification for why I don’t commit it to memory. But every time I tell myself, “this time you’re going to remember,” and then I still get confused.

So when Rory asked me, “what is this fruit called again?” I had to look him in the eyes and admit, that I can not remember. It’s either honeydew or cantaloupe, but to discover which one, you will have to go on that journey yourself, my son. Perhaps it was a good time for him to learn the valuable lesson that there are things he will need to discover on his own. That the world is a big place and sometimes his greatest discoveries will come when he breaks free from his parents and asks and answers his own questions. Those true moments of exploration and discovery that only come when we are on our own.

A discovery like learning that your dad is an absolute dope.