Frank, be careful and don't drink the whole watermelon in one day. If you do, you might want to consider putting a litter box in every room before commencing.
Yeah, I know.
When I was a teenager, I used to make quite some money babysitting for a Mormon family in the Sandhills of Nebraska. They had, like, nine kids, between infancy and 11 years old. (A few years ago, I saw the mother, now of eleven kids, of course adults now; she was still blonde, petite, and looked circa 30 years old.)
One summer night, as instructed by the parents, I cut up a watermelon for the kids to have after their excursion to the playground. I omitted the infant, because he was still pretty small, in diapers and all that.
The infant whined; he wanted in on it. No infant food would satisfy him.
So I put the parental-approved baby food aside, and fed him watermelon in small doses, considerably squashed.
About half an hour later, it started. The infant got restless.
His diapers needed changed, and so I did that.
Then he got restless again; ooops, apparently he had been done when I first changed him. So I changed him again, which was pointless because he immediately got restless again. This went on for some time, way past his bedtime.
The family used cloth diapers, not disposable ones, and even though I had been left with an ample (for normal times) supply, that stack was soon gone. Desperate, I began using clean dish-towels, and ultimately, the monogrammed hand-towels in the bathroom.
The infant pumped out like a bison.
I continued to babysit for the family for two or three more years, until the oldest child, a boy, could take over, but in summers thereafter, everybody got ice cream, not watermelon.
