Feast for the Eyes

I got home from work tonight, and just as I was walking through the front door, I heard Cat Man say, “Would you like some steamed Wild Alaskan salmon in a delicate broth?” He even sounded like Bobby Flay!

I was tempted, especially because our newly launched minimalist diets rarely allow for any deviations from the game plan. A delicate broth? I’m in!

Turns out that Cat Man was talking to our cats and waving the Fancy Feast salmon appetizer packet in front of their attentive eyes. Our cats know the word “appetizer,” and they do not believe in depriving themselves.

If only I had it so good. . . .

Baby, Baby

Tell me if you feel this way.

Our elder cats crave Gerber’s baby food. Every Saturday, when I dutifully head to Kroger with my grocery list, I make sure that I have noted the need for seven cans of yummy (I guess) baby food. I have to make a list these days, just in case my memory fails me of which cat likes which flavor. But that is only one-half of the problem.

The other half is that, much as I always aim to please my children, I am tired of the sideways glances that I keep getting in Aisle 7. I know what people are thinking. “Aren’t you a bit old to have a baby”?

The original Gerber Baby.

 

To those with suspicious minds, I say: There are babies who coo and gurgle, and there are babies who purr and meow. And all babies like baby food, pure (and puréed) and simple.

 

Kippy, my 11-month-old baby.