Lily and I settled onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn strategically placed between us. The show was about to begin.
And what a show it was!
Mark initially strutted around like he owned the place, the watermelon half bouncing on his belly with each step. But it wasn’t long before the reality of the situation set in.
He bent over in order to pick up a stray sock, and the watermelon swung forward, nearly knocking him off balance.
He made an effort to vacuum, but the extra weight made him waddle like a penguin. When he tried to load the washing machine, the watermelon kept bumping against the door, preventing it from closing.
Lily and I couldn’t contain our laughter.
“Need some help?” I called out sweetly, making Lily chuckle.
Mark gritted his teeth and muttered something about “women’s work” being easier than it looked.
However, by lunchtime, he was sweating like a pig. The watermelon half had left a sticky residue on his shirt, and he was moving at a snail’s pace.
It was particularly entertaining to see him trying to paint the nursery . He stood dangerously on a stepladder and could barely balance his weight.
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