Over dinner
Yesterday, boyfriend and his tiny dog came over to visit. Small one was delighted. We walked and they played trains and I cooked dinner. It was spaghettini. When I served the three plates, small one was reluctant to join the table for dinner.
Enticement? Not me asking him to please come have dinner, to join the party. Of course not. Rather, it was boyfriend slurping pasta into his mouth.
Small one looked up once, twice, thrice: time to join the slurping.
After five slurps of his own, small one gave a hearty burp.
Boyfriend: Yeah, slurpin’ and burpin’. That’s what I bring to the table.
Notes
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