you can't eat that!
11:19 PM Eastern Time
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Shake it
My moms have this game that my one mom (with the tasty hair) absolutely loves and my other mom (with the comfy lap) merely tolerates. I understand the difference between loving and merely tolerating. For example: I love PICKING UP SPIDERS AND CARRYING THEM ABOUT THE HOUSE, but I merely tolerate my moms PICKING ME UP AND CARRYING ME ABOUT THE HOUSE. Or, for another example: I love THE SMELL OF TUNA FROM THE CAN, but I merely tolerate NOT BEING ALLOWED TO HAVE ANY.
My mom with the comfy lap has such a great love for my mom with the tasty hair that she merely tolerates this particular game quite frequently. My moms play this game a couple of times a week sometimes. My mom with the comfy lap makes such frustrated noises sometimes that you would think maybe someone was trying to TRIM HER BACK CLAWS.
When my moms play this game, I experience GREAT CONFUSION. They pull out the box and all its parts, and suddenly there is this DIVINE RATTLE that sounds for all the world EXACTLY LIKE MY TREATS. So naturally I come running to the kitchen, thinking I am going to get a handful of crunchy, fishy bits, and each time I am SORELY DISAPPOINTED BY THE LACK OF TREATS and you can bet I make my disappointment audibly apparent.
One time my mom with the comfy lap decided to dump some of the game's parts on the floor. My moms sometimes put little things on the floor, leaves and fruit and such, in an attempt to help me learn that they are not good to eat. This never works. In the middle of the night, I just get so hungry that I seek out all stuff my moms think they've shown me I dislike. I do actually like this stuff. I just humor my moms so that I can barf up stuff all over the house while they sleep. QED.
Anyway, when my mom dumped the game's parts on the floor, I got SO TERRIBLY EXCITED because first there was the DIVINE RATTLE, which means TREATS ARE COMING! And then there were the bits on the floor, which means TREATS ARE HERE! And oh, was I disappointed when the bits on the floor turned out to be LITTLE CUBES OF PLASTIC, which SMELLED LIKE BAGS but were approximately the size of ATOMIC JAWBREAKERS.
I was not pleased with my mom with the comfy lap. So I decided to send her a little reminder about the order of the universe:
My mom with the comfy lap has such a great love for my mom with the tasty hair that she merely tolerates this particular game quite frequently. My moms play this game a couple of times a week sometimes. My mom with the comfy lap makes such frustrated noises sometimes that you would think maybe someone was trying to TRIM HER BACK CLAWS.
When my moms play this game, I experience GREAT CONFUSION. They pull out the box and all its parts, and suddenly there is this DIVINE RATTLE that sounds for all the world EXACTLY LIKE MY TREATS. So naturally I come running to the kitchen, thinking I am going to get a handful of crunchy, fishy bits, and each time I am SORELY DISAPPOINTED BY THE LACK OF TREATS and you can bet I make my disappointment audibly apparent.
One time my mom with the comfy lap decided to dump some of the game's parts on the floor. My moms sometimes put little things on the floor, leaves and fruit and such, in an attempt to help me learn that they are not good to eat. This never works. In the middle of the night, I just get so hungry that I seek out all stuff my moms think they've shown me I dislike. I do actually like this stuff. I just humor my moms so that I can barf up stuff all over the house while they sleep. QED.
Anyway, when my mom dumped the game's parts on the floor, I got SO TERRIBLY EXCITED because first there was the DIVINE RATTLE, which means TREATS ARE COMING! And then there were the bits on the floor, which means TREATS ARE HERE! And oh, was I disappointed when the bits on the floor turned out to be LITTLE CUBES OF PLASTIC, which SMELLED LIKE BAGS but were approximately the size of ATOMIC JAWBREAKERS.
I was not pleased with my mom with the comfy lap. So I decided to send her a little reminder about the order of the universe:
