Tuesday, April 28, 2009


There's something thrilling about having your food fed manually to you. Yes, it's also a form of sloth and gluttony, but still, if you got it, you can't really complain. But I've got these arms and hands that I'm just beginning to control, and when I see things being done to me that I can handle, well, that's just not cool in my book.

So whenever Mommy and Daddy try to feed me, I just put my hands to my mouth. This is my job, I tell them. Let me handle this.

So they put the handle of the spoon in the palm of my hand, and I go on my business of putting food in my mouth.

And my cheek.

And my neck.

And my ears.

And my forehead.

And my hair.

And in my lap.

Hey, I didn't say I was a professional.

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