The Reason For The Name
"Don't stand on the watermelon."

"I'm not your friend, I'm your mother."

"Tell your therapist when you're older."

"If you wake up dead in the morning, you'll know it was no good."

"You can shoot me later; right now, make your bed."

All things that I have said to my four children at one time or another (although I will admit to the waking up dead thing as having originated from my mother, and completely stealing it for my own purposes).

Yes, I said four. As in double the average number of children per North American family. As in constant chaos and noise. As in being asked whether or not I run a daycare. As in bugged out eyes when I answer that they are all mine. As in having eight arms wrapped around my neck to give me hugs. Four separate little beings who seem to love me no matter what sort of craziness comes from their mother's mouth, or how she strives to maintain some sense of tidiness and order in a house where she is vastly outnumbered by people who don't really care whether or not the floor is clean enough to eat off or if the towels in the bathroom are hanging perfectly on the rack.

Four small humans to whom I have actually had to say, "Don't stand on the watermelon."