Have you seen those funny videos where people put a cucumber behind their cat and when they turn around they FREAK out and run away?
Well, that’s not MY cat.
If I have a cucumber on my counter–minding it’s own business–he just KNOWS somehow, and jumps up and grabs it and runs off with it. Next time we see it, it’s half eaten and chewed up all over the floor.
Believe it or not, we’ve hit upon a compromise, of sorts.
I peel and cut up the cucumber and quarter it, while Hobbes paces and howls like I’m skinning a 9 pound mackerel– just for him. I slice out the middle seeds, because nobody wants them anyway.
Except Mr. Hobbes.
No sense in throwing the seeds away cause he’ll just dig them out of the trash anyway. So, have them, little kitty–and good riddance.
I had just barely sat down on the couch to eat my dinner of soup and toast and crackers– a balancing act on a good day. But I have the skills of a ninja.
Then, my phone rang. It was REEEEALLY loud. So, loud that I jumped just the teeniest bit. It was enough of a jump that my plate with my soup bowl started to slide on one side of my lap while my phone slipped off the other side. With cat-like reflexes I swung my hands out to save the plate and the phone at the same time.
I was not successful.
I did, however, manage to drop the phone and flip my bowl of soup up off my lap and right into my purse. Yep. The whole bowl. What I learned from this experience is that there are a few places on this earth where soup just does not belong.
Ok, I’m all for stone baked, authentic, back east, New York Style pizza and all that. I know I’m kinda old and I know that I’m kinda picky with what I choose to use my calories for. I know things aren’t the same as they were when I was a young whipper-snapper.
So, maybe it’s just a personal problem, but let me just ask you…
Is this pizza burned? I think it’s burned. I think it’s REALLY burned. So burned, in fact, that I scurried right back to the pizza joint and said, politely, “Hey, I think my pizza is burned. Like, REALLY burned.”
Why did I say, I THINK my pizza’s burned?! I’ve been alive a long time and I think know burned when I see it. There, I said it again. I THINK. I need to be more decisive…more assertive…more…more…something. Sheesh.
The girl at the window said, “Oh, sorry. We can make you another one. We thought it was fine.”
Fine? FINE?!! FIIIIIIIINE? What on earth?!! How is this fine?! What are people eating these days that they are calling food? Fine. Burned. Pizza?!