She plops a piece of watermelon in her mouth, munching on it slowly and then mewling in delight at the juicy taste of it. Her cheeks puff out as she chews, and when she swipes the back of her hand over her chin, I catch the sight of the dribble of juice peeking from the corner of her mouth.
Holding my tongue, I sear the memory of her embarrassment into my mind to replay forever, absorbing the pink tinge of her ears and the downcast of her eyelashes as she attempts to avoid eye contact. Her hands would undoubtedly be hiding her face if they weren't holding her container of watermelon chunks from toppling over in her lap.
To my disappointment, she neglects her watermelon for the rest of the afternoon, stealing celery sticks from my baggie instead.