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Saturday, March 01, 2003 ( 5:52 PM ) Lostcheerio I think I might possibly be pregnant, so I believe that my husband must begin eating polenta. Polenta is a food that I find comforting and it also says organic on the label and strikes me as a fine thing to eat when you are pregnant. So I prepare some polenta and serve it to my husband. I follow the instructions on the label but somehow it turns out mushier than I thought, so in actual fact it looks like a small hump of dog vomit. But it is bursting with vitamins and organic goodness. Him: What is that? Me: Polenta. Him: What is polenta? Me: A food. At this point he shuffles off back to his computer with his big nice salad and pile of polenta. and I go to feed the child his nice polenta and big nice salad. Child is having none of the polenta, but eats a sizeable pile of cucumber slices. I eat my polenta. It is nourishing and good. There is nothing WRONG with polenta. It is completely inoffensive and virtuous. The polenta did nothing to anyone, and deserves to be eaten without comment. So my husband comes into the room where I am feeding the child and eating polenta. Him: Let's play a game. Me: Alright. Him: The game goes like this: I ask you questions about polenta and you answer as many of them as you can. Me: Go. Him: What is polenta? Me: It is a food. He leaves. Later he comes back. He has put his plate in the sink. He is finished eating. Me: Did you eat your nice polenta? Him: It was eaten. Me: Is it in your stomach? Him: It is in a stomach. And I look at the dog. And he is burping nutrients. # |
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