I hadn’t refrigerated the real maple syrup and it developed a suspicious crust. He’d have to make due with the fake kind. But hey, I’d made a delicious breakfast and he’d just have to deal. I was still expecting compliments. We went into the living room, and dug in. Like a good boy, he made appreciative “nom nom nom” noises as he quickly polished off the first piece of French toast. And then. . . “Oh look, you gave me a little seasoning,” he said, having unearthed the shriveled body of an ant from beneath French toast slice number two of three. “Ew! Sorry baby,” I replied, and we laughed it off. Until he found another. And another.
More from the hoard. This was also published in my college literary magazine Inscribed in 2000, and written my junior year. I'm not editing before I post, even if I'd do things differently now. In fact, that is likely to be an upcoming project. See the poems here first, in their original glory. Image by … Continue reading Past Musings: Exploring A Metaphor