I don’t eat like normal people do.
I mean, the process is pretty much the same, with the putting non-poisonous stuff in my mouth, and chewing it before swallowing.
But my stomach is another story… I might talk about it in another post, but for now, let’s just say that it just won’t allow me to eat the normal amount of food others can. So, for people, I might look like I am always eating. In fact, I just snack or eat small platings throughout the day. (Which is why I am not a super fan of restaurants, because I always end up eating only about a third of the food on the plate, and no matter the emphasis I put on telling the waiter how much I loooved my meal, I know he doesn’t believe me…)
Ok going astray again…
So, the good side (there’s always one if you look well) is that when I go hungry and lazy at the same time, it is not hard to get the “hungry” part of the equation away. Take lunchtime today. I just cooked myself a medium potato I intended to eat with (Danish) blue cheese. You can’t go wrong with potatoes and blue cheese. Taken separately or together!
– Where do the claws and the opposable thumbs come in? I didn’t click for stomach stories and potatoes meet blue cheese tales!!
Getting there! I transport my snack to the living room, to feast (not quite Babette’s style) and maybe give a post a shot. I sit on the couch, start cutting my potato into bitesizes, and I hear a thump.
Oh no!! I have awaken the beast!
And there she comes, lured by the smell of the cheese. MY cheese! I can see some sleep leftovers in the corners of her eyes, giving her the “You haven’t made me take a nap break for nothing… Whatever you have there that I might want, I WILL have” look I fear constantly.
I start trembling, trying not to let the fear show in my eyes, thinking of a strategy to hold on to my precious “bleu”… I could jump, catch one of her favorite boxes ( yeah, no, we’re not planin to move anywhere anytime soon… Mademoiselle just really likes carton boxes, or any boxes for that matter) flip it to trap her and then sit on it to eat my cheesy potatoe… Taking half the pleasure of eating my potato ancient food-orgy style, with my legs stretched on the couch…
I could pretend that there is no cheese. But then, to convince her, I would have to start eating the potato plain, which would also turn my snack into just alimentation. No, I want my cheese, dang it!
I see her stretching her claws out, as a reminder that I still haven’t cut them, which would have come in handy just now. She shows me her shiny teeth and hisses at me. I really don’t want to fight, (lazy day remember?) but I am not ready to surrender either.
I step up and grab the plate before lifting it above my head! I stare back at Freja defying her to try to get the food.
She jump on me and starts scratching and biting like a Tasmanian devil. The pain is unbearable, and I can’t risk her getting the idea of climbing her way up my waist or even further up…
By reflex, my right leg gets a mind of its own, and I kick her away. She hits the wall and curls up to lick one of her paws, as if I had broken one of her legs, but I am not fooled! Seeing that I didn’t fall for the “you hurt me” strategy, she gets back up on all fours, and walks straight forward to my feet.
I fear a second round, but she stops and sits in front of me. When she turns her head up to me, I immediately notice she has put her Puss in Boots eyes! The ultimate kitten weapon!
So, in the end, I ate my potato cold, with only half of the planned cheese… At least, I am full. There is always a good side…
If you look well, that is.