Towels?

Upon opening the refrigerator for the 3rd time this evening, I finally decided on a treat. The juiciest, sweetest, reddest, largest thing in there, Watermelon! The biggest dilemma surrounding the summertime fruit was extracting its contents. A knife large enough to cut half-way through it would be a bit of a beast to find but also intensely rewarding. Watermelon on the red cutting board, serrated knife in my hand, I began with a stab to the center. The corresponding noise in my head was a sort of squeal with glee. Around the axis, I cut. Slowly. The end fell off, rocked a few times, then stalled with an inviting glisten. Flip. Slice. Remove succulent fruit. Transfer to bowl. Devour. But what was that wetness streaming off my chin or dripping from my fingers or sloshing in the bowl? The consequence of juicy fruit is messiness, a small price. How, now, do I remedy this issue? Licking my fingers only helps so much. The pants are pinstripe and to wear out, not to be used as a napkin. The paper in front of me was lacking in absorbency. Ah ha! I ran to the bathroom and washed my hands. Brilliant! They were dripping still but not sticky. Shake. Turn. Dry. Oh, yellow hand towel in a bathroom sea of many colors, how I adore you. I think I actually sang that one aloud. Then everything was right again. Perhaps next time I'll share...