- daughter: Daddy, does steak come from zebras?
- me: No, steak for us comes from cows.
- daughter: No, daddy.
- me: Really, honey. It is from cows that die for our food.
- daughter: No, daddy, it is not a time for joking. We don't eat cows.
- me: I'm not joking honey. That's why we are thankful for our food and we don't waste it. Our steak comes from cows.
- daughter: Don't talk about cows daddy.
A few days pass, in which life progressed with its usual doll-dressings and poop-encouraging serenades on the toilet. I was working away at my research when my daughter saunters into the room. She has been playing chef with her favorite dolls, each seated around a pretend table set with tiny tea cups and plates. Panda is wearing a tutu.
- daughter: Daddy, I made you a special dinner.
- me: Wonderful, Monkey, what did you make?
- daughter: I made you a bear meat sandwich.
- me: A bear meat sandwich? What a new and delicious thing! I want to see!
- daughter: Wait here, I will bring it to you.
Behold... a Bear Meat Sandwich...
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2 comments:
that is the most delicious looking sandwich i have ever seen. i'm so glad to know that Miss Neverpoop did not take the obviously PETA planted subliminal messages in Madagasgar and has instead gone for the ultra-carnivore route!!
it is so cute ... the conversation between you and your daughter is so cute as well ... It cheers my day ...
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