A Memory From the Past

I was driving between Bell City and Lake Arthur, Louisiana on Friday on my way to an appointment for work.  It was drizzling off and on and I was looking out at harvested rice fields and crawfish ponds which were being flooded up for crawfish season.  As I looked out the window, something bright yellow caught my eye in a roadside turnrow.  I've posted about this vegetation before.

We called these things "stink melons."  I looked them up and I think their real name is a "musk melon."  Whatever they are called, these things brought lots of fun to kids growing up on the farm.  They would grow at the field's edge, with long vines that reached out to the edge of the soybean field.  We were attracted to them like flies on poop.

I'm positive I've written about stink melons before.  They were created by God to fit snugly in the palm of your hand.  They are smooth and easy to grip.  The stink melon weighs just the right amount - not too heavy, but not too light.

Their purpose, you ask?  They were made to be thrown at your brother.  Trust me, I know.  If your aim is true and your stink melon finds its target, it will do one of two things.  If the stink melon is a little under-ripe, it will ricochet off your brother's torso, invoking a wail of pain and prompting him to find a stink melon of his own to throw back at you.  If the stink melon is ripe, upon hitting your brother, it will burst and release a jelly-like stinky substance.  What fun!  We had many a stink-melon war on the farm.

As I held it in my hand this past Friday, I could sense that the stink melon wanted to be thrown.  It was begging to be thrown.  So I obliged.  Since my brother was not around, I threw it in the ditch.  Lucky for him, he wasn't around.