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Tuesday, November 10, 2009

I Could Boke Thinking About It

Nelly and Bert had pumpkin soup for dinner tonight. It was homemade by Nelly using pumpkin's grown in Nelly's garden and chillies grown in Wee Les' Wee garden (I don't know if it's a wee garden but it can't be too big otherwise Wee Les wouldn't be able to look after it).

Due to bastarding toothache soup seemed like a damn good idea to me, but one mouthful of Nelly's pumpkin soup, with Wee Les' kick ass chillies, was enough for me to know that eating a whole bowlful would be a painful experience. My eyes lingered over the Cup-A-Soup but I thought I'd go for a can of Baxter's Leek and Potato instead.

As I poured the contents from the can I thought it looked different but I heated it up and buttered my bread and sat down to dine. After one spoonful I knew something was amiss. But how could soup from a can be fusty? I asked Bert to taste it but he'd just eaten the last of his marzipan bar and wasn't forsaking the sugary taste in his mouth for anything. I checked the date on the can. Fine. I remarked upon the weirdness of it to mum and she assumed that it was probably just not very nice soup.

So back to my bowl. I dipped some bread in and concentrated on the taste of butter. I ate half a slice of bread then chanced another spoonful. No way! The smell hit my nose before the spoon entered my mouth.

There's definitely something wrong with that soup!

I asked Bert again but he was still enjoying his sugar high. I took the bowl into mum. She sniffed. Just a stinking soup according to her expert nostrils. Then she tasted a mouthful and squealed.

Eeeuuuggghhh!!! It's sour!

I bloody knew it! I knew it yet I tried to endure it. Forced myself to eat half a slice of bread with it. And then the thought of it just turned me. Mum reckoned it tasted like snot. Bert scrunched his face up talking about rancid, slimy leeks. I am a little bit traumatised.

In other news: Fat Face Freddy is off the diet. Bert kept "forgetting" (Bert does have a terrible memory but I'm inclined to believe that he's just too soft to cut down Fred's food intake). So tonight when I walked into the kitchen and saw Freddy devouring a bowl of food the size of a small mountain I confiscated it. And then when I caught him finishing off what was in Holly cat's bowl I confiscated that too. At which point he decided if he couldn't eat the rest of his dinner he was gonna eat poor Holly cat. So, the diet's off. Purely for the sake of Holly cat of course.

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