: I Has a Sweet Potato

You know, a lot of times I write up random posts and then don't post them. But Best Beloved just called me, and I could not really explain why I was inarticulate about sweet potatoes, so I said I'd go ahead and post this. That way, she can read it at work and know. (Short version, for those who do not feel like reading the whole post: ARRRRRRG. Fucking sweet potatoes.)The longer version, summarized in conversation form:I am starving.Actually, no. You aren't starving. You get two very good meals a day. And treats. And Best Beloved fed you extra food while I was gone.STARVING.I saw you get fed not four hours ago! You arePity me, a sad and tragic creature, for I can barely walk, I am so starving. WOE.I am now ignoring you.STARVING.Did you hear me?Are you seriously ignoring me?[There is a pause, during which the dog exits the room in a pointed manner.][From the kitchen, there comes a noise like someone is eating a baseball bat.]What the hell are you doing?*makes haste for the kitchen and finds dog there**picks up entire raw sweet potato, which is what was causing the baseball bat noise, and flees for the bedroom**chases dog, retrieves most of sweet potato, less the portion which has disappeared into dog's gullet*See? STARVING....That can't be good for you. It's a RAW SWEET POTATO.I had to do it. I haven't been fed. Ever.You realize you aren't normal. Normal dogs don't steal raw sweet potatoes.I was badly brought up.Yes. Yes, you were.By people who starved me.Oh, no.*exits the room, bearing sweet potato*[There is a pause.][There is a noise like someone is trying to eat a baseball bat very very quietly.]Oh, for the love of GOD.*heads off to the kitchen*I am not eating a raw sweet potato.You have sweet potato parts all over your snout.But you don't actually SEE a raw sweet potato, do you? So maybe that's just - um. A birthmark.Did you seriously eat a whole sweet potato?You don't listen. I told you, I wasn't eating a sweet potato.Look. NO MORE SWEET POTATOES.Oh, what am I saying? This iswe're talking about, here. *goes to hide all the sweet potatoes that are left - which isn't many - in the fridge, because some people*attempts to look thwarted**does not succeed, because her tail is wagging so hard small cyclones are forming in the kitchen**has a very bad feeling about this*[There is a pause, during which I do not even bother trying to return to what I was doing. I just stand in the computer room, waiting.][There is, as I wholly expected, a baseball-bat-eating noise.]OKAY. GIVE ME THE DAMNED SWEET POTATO.What sweet potato?THE ONE IN YOUR MOUTH.Oh, did you want this? I just, um. Found it. Lying here.*confiscates the sweet potato and deposits it in the locking trashcan*Let us say no more about this....Nooooo! They be stealin' my sweet potato![I attempt to remember what I was doing before the sweet potato episode.][Some ten minutes later, I succeed, and return to it.][NOT ONE MINUTE LATER, I hear a noise with which I have become all too familiar.]Arg.How did you evenanother sweet potato?I have my ways.Are you punishing me for being away for several days? I was at a FUNERAL, you know. It wasn't FUN.How would I know? You didn't. You left me here with only one human to look after my needs. One human is NOT ENOUGH.*shuts dog in bedroom, conducts a sweep of the kitchen to track down all remaining sweet potatoes, wipes up random sweet potato particles from floor, eradicates all traces of sweet potato from house**lets dog out*Oh, so you think you've[I watch her go about her business with the same sense of overwhelming doom that heroines of Victorian novels get when they meet Count Sinistrus Grimblack for the first time.][Half an hour later, there is a wetter, juicier eating noise, as though someone was eating a very moist baseball bat.]What NOW?*says something garbled because her mouth is full*Okay. Fine.*stomps over, empties entire vegetable bowl into trash*WE JUST WON'T HAVE ANY ROOT VEGETABLES ANYMORE. THERE. ARE YOU HAPPY?I'm not even remotely sorry. I told you I was hungry. And you went to a funeral without me.ARRRRRRRRG.[A half-hour later, there is another baseball-bat-eating noise from the kitchen. The dog, who apparently does not know how to win gracefully, has found another sweet potato, or possibly caused one to materialize from the Rift.]Oh my god how is this myDon't you think it would just be easier to feed me?EVERYONE GO TO THE BEDROOM AND STAY THERE. EAT NOTHING.Actually, I feel...um...not so good.*throws up* *vomit is very bright orange*[Unfortunate details ensue.]Some time later:So. What have we learned from this?Sweet potatoes are yummy!I should pay more attention to crunching noises. Sweet potatoes are probably yummy.I need aAnd that, Best Beloved - and anyone else who made it through that - is What Kind of Day It Has Been.FUCKING SWEET POTATOES. ARG.: Hi! I can't reply to comments on this entry any more; I'm reading them all, and loving them, but responding is beyond me. So:If you'd like to link people here, feel free.If you'd like to leave a comment, please do. They make me happy.If you'd like to repost or use this elsewhere, please don't; I'd prefer you to link. And no commercial use of my work without my permission, please.If you see this reposted or used elsewhere, I'd very much appreciate a comment or email - thefourthvine at livejournal dot com - to let me know where.Thank you for reading!...And, yes, she has had more sweet potato; I gave it to her when the comments on this hit the tenth page. I figured she'd earned it.]