Yeah, it's pretty good! I should have added tearing a little but of mint in it is a bonus! My sons have forgiven me by bringing them up every now and then at parties and dinners. Love those boys
Watermelon and gin. Perfect in this heat! Those accidents happen so quickly. I do remember this one, probably because as a mom, and now a grandmother, I remember those accidents well.
There’s something beautifully universal about that moment when a parent realizes the day has fully defeated them and the only logical medical treatment is… gin‑soaked watermelon. As a lifelong chef, I’ve seen cooks walk into service with burns, cuts, heartbreak, hangovers, and existential dread — but nothing compares to the look of a parent who’s just spent 48 hours chasing a toddler with the speed of a feral raccoon and the balance of a drunk gymnast.
This story nails it: the guilt, the chaos, the family circus, the “he’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine—oh God he’s not fine,” the train ride shame, the lump the size of a croquembouche, and the quiet forgiveness that shows up in the form of a giggling kid and a partner pouring gin like a priest with holy water.
Honestly, watermelon‑and‑gin should be listed right next to Tylenol in every parenting handbook. It’s hydrating, it’s cooling, and it’s the only cocktail that pairs well with the sentence, “I swear I only looked away for one second.”
Oh Matthew, thank you so much for such a lovely response. I sometimes wish that no parent is dumb enough to think they were perfect. Somehow my sons survived all the craziness of growing up in a hard neighborhood and their parents' limitless faults to be fine men with a slew my of great stories to tell. Gin and watermelon is actually an old recipe found in 17/18th century recipes to feed the sick (invalid cooking). Not sure their gin was as refined as ours but it certainly provided a bracing kick. Your generosity has given me a reason to sit down at the typewriter again!
Yeah, it's pretty good! I should have added tearing a little but of mint in it is a bonus! My sons have forgiven me by bringing them up every now and then at parties and dinners. Love those boys
Watermelon and gin. Perfect in this heat! Those accidents happen so quickly. I do remember this one, probably because as a mom, and now a grandmother, I remember those accidents well.
There’s something beautifully universal about that moment when a parent realizes the day has fully defeated them and the only logical medical treatment is… gin‑soaked watermelon. As a lifelong chef, I’ve seen cooks walk into service with burns, cuts, heartbreak, hangovers, and existential dread — but nothing compares to the look of a parent who’s just spent 48 hours chasing a toddler with the speed of a feral raccoon and the balance of a drunk gymnast.
This story nails it: the guilt, the chaos, the family circus, the “he’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine—oh God he’s not fine,” the train ride shame, the lump the size of a croquembouche, and the quiet forgiveness that shows up in the form of a giggling kid and a partner pouring gin like a priest with holy water.
Honestly, watermelon‑and‑gin should be listed right next to Tylenol in every parenting handbook. It’s hydrating, it’s cooling, and it’s the only cocktail that pairs well with the sentence, “I swear I only looked away for one second.”
Savage week, sweet ending. Perfect summer recipe.
Oh Matthew, thank you so much for such a lovely response. I sometimes wish that no parent is dumb enough to think they were perfect. Somehow my sons survived all the craziness of growing up in a hard neighborhood and their parents' limitless faults to be fine men with a slew my of great stories to tell. Gin and watermelon is actually an old recipe found in 17/18th century recipes to feed the sick (invalid cooking). Not sure their gin was as refined as ours but it certainly provided a bracing kick. Your generosity has given me a reason to sit down at the typewriter again!
After a day like that, I’ll take the gin—happily.
I’m not a gin girl, but this combo does sound refreshingly good!
I enjoyed this piece, Pat. The second-person telling is a nice touch. It’s also relatable for almost every mother, especially of a boy.