Patty Whacked

For various reasons,  we didn’t have Salmon Sunday until tonight. In addition to the salmon, I bought some crab cakes. The grocery store makes a mighty fine patty of crab.

I didn’t notice something kind of important. I was given the spicy crab cakes.

Now we’re generally okay with spicy food – and The Boy did eat his – but this was too spicy for me. I finished the rest of my dinner and set my plate on the coffee table so Oliver and I could have a snuggle.

I mentioned to Oli that the crab cake was spicy. I breathed in his face to show him and his eyes widened. Shortly afterward, he got up and left.

A few minutes later, we looked down to see the grey kitten sneaking a crab cake off my plate. But, just as I asked him what he thought he was doing, the heat intervened.

His eyes got big.

The patty dropped from his mouth.

He backed slowly away from the plate.

That, his pointed look told me, is disgusting. With a flick of his tail, he left the room. The Boy took our plates to the kitchen. He confirmed that I didn’t want that crab cake now that it had been lipped by a kitten.

Nope. I’m good.

It’s not Thunder Thursday, but I’ve been meaning to share this for a while. It’s Cousin Puck. In a hockey net.




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