Watermelon

After church, Collette brought Francis and Puck back to the house where Francis brought up a cardboard box of treasure from the basement.
“Do you think he can play with these, Collette?” he asked.
He lifted the corner of the lid to reveal carefully stacked rows of empty red and yellow cartridges. Puck was in heaven with the stash of containers and rattled them together in a loud shuffle with his piggies.
Collette, meanwhile, had found her own treasure on the dining room table: boxes of chocolate iced donuts from breakfast.
After Mom, Dad, and Puck when down for naps, Linnea took the second watermelon out of the fridge. She pulled the large knife out of the pantry and began to hack away.
“Linnea, you’re butchering that watermelon,” Collette told her from the counter.
“Watermelons are happier when they’re cut,” said Linnea. “Because they know someone is going to buy them and eat them. Wouldn’t you be happier if someone liked you and wanted to eat you? And everyone bought you?”
That afternoon, they drove out to visit Grandma Snicketts in Chesterfield. She had things to pass on for Puck, the old toys from when they and all the cousins were little, including the little brightly colored milk bottle set.
Then the crew returned from West Virginia, tired, in the muggy heat. OLeif said that it had been a good week.