28 February 2009

The Wrath of Grape

Sweet William stole a grape this morning. He grabbed it off the counter and tore into it right away, his little pupils dilating and contracting so rapidly that it looked quite comical – in, out, in, out, whoooo! Attempts to take the grape away ended in threats of violence so I gave up and watched him devour what looked like a reddish-purple bowling ball in his tiny talons.

I wonder if he’ll regret it when the excitement wears off and he’s left with an aching gut. Or will he feel fine, smug even? One thing is for sure he’ll be doing you-know-what like Niagara Falls soon enough. Imagine eating a 5 pound watermelon for breakfast. My guess is, you wouldn’t want to stray too far from the small room. And I wouldn’t want you sitting on my shoulder.

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