Every time I cut a watermelon, I have to ask myself an important question: Are you a helicopter parent?
My mother said it all began with my great grandmother Martha. She loved to give us little ones sweet treats, but my favorite of all was the melon she so religiously extracted the seeds from. What I remember most is her selfless smile when summer’s juices ran down our chins.
But, here in the twenty-first century kitchen, I weld a sharp knife whose blade mirrors the painstaking care I take in eliminating challenge for my children: watermelon seeds.
Sometimes I can’t help but wonder: Do I have it all wrong?