Tennis and Vaginas – Yes, There’s a Correlation

Well all in all I’d say it’s been a fairly uneventful couple of days – just your average weekend filled with a hurricane, a house guest we tricked into cleaning, and then a little party where 40 or so people came to visit.

While at the grocery store yesterday, procuring supplies for the soiree, we bought a watermelon – partially because the shelves were still completely devoid of milk, bread, eggs, and cheese – but mostly because I really like watermelons.  Though lately, they seem a little threatening.  Because I’ve always imagined that’s what childbirth is like, right?  Passing a watermelon through your left nostril?  That’s how you envision it too, right?  I mean, who doesn’t?  Granted they haven’t used that analogy in the pregnancy book I’m currently reading, but there’s still a chapter or two to go.  If they have that diagram of a baby foot hanging out of a lady’s kayak, I’m sure they have no qualms about terrifying ladies with images of them blowing large, fleshy melons out their hooches.  Or stealing issues of US Weekly from a girl’s mailbox.  Or peeing all over toilet seats.  Or sautéing kittens.

Focus, Elly.

So this watermelon made me think of the actual birthing process.  And shoulders.  *shudders*  Which made me think of that contortionist guy with the tennis racquet.  And now I’m obsessed.  And habitually crossing my legs.

What?  Don’t remember him?  Never fear, I found a video.

Yeah.  So.  There’s that.

In other news, I don’t think I’ll be watching much of the U.S. Open this year.


  1. I think one of the main reasons I’ve been afraid to have kids involves the watermelon scenario… your blog kind of isn’t helping.

    I guess I’m gonna have to wait til after you pop out the kidlet and share with us the truth of your experience…. good, bad.. whatever.

    1. I’m birth control personified. Your insurance company may even cover me.

      Everyone says the end result is more than worthwhile. I just think stories are funnier when they don’t end with precious moments cartoons. Also I may or may not be a little vagina-centric.

  2. I watched my wife deliver watermelons twice and she was amazing. She said fuck a lot but she was still amazing. You can do this. You can.

  3. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Unless your child comes out with a headband & sneakers on… And the delivery staff cheers.

  4. That’s a pretty realistic re-enactment of birth as I recall it. Mind you I took all the drugs on offer so I’m not too sure if there really were short shorts involved, though I am pretty definite that there was some ball grabbage along the way.

    PS I took my children to see that guy as part of a freak circus. I’m such a good mum.

  5. I’ve always said delivery is the same as pooping a watermelon. But, having never pooped an actual watermelon, I can’t say for sure. But if I had, I’m sure I would say it was like that. I have a strong feeling that your delivery will be every bit as outrageous and amazing and memorable as you are. Watermelon and all.

Comments are closed.