I have always been a bit weird about a few little things. More like a bit of a fussy arsehole, really.
I can’t eat or drink from anything that has even a speck of old food, lipstick, dirt, etc on it. In restaurants I send glasses back, furiously polish knives and forks and would rather drink through a straw than let my delicate lips touch the rim of a glass with someone’s old lip goo on it. If I come to your house (and all my friends know this already so it’s no surprise here) I will inspect my glass like I am on an episode of CSI. Nobody take offense, please, I do it at my house too.
I also can’t eat food with funny little bits on, such as brown bits on potatoes, and chips. Any vegetable that is about to be eaten will be scrutinized and any non approved bits will be dissected and sent to the nope pile on my plate. That goes for veins, valves, gristle, fat and any other mystery lurking in or on my food.
I still heave at the memory of my dear friend Leigh offering me the last sip of her milkshake at the JHB airport. We were sitting there with the hangover shakes and she slid her milkshake over to me and I gratefully accepted. The evil hag then squealed in delight and happily told me that there was a hair in it.
I have a list of food I can’t eat, but peanut butter is the top offender, I actually can’t even touch the outside of a jar. Bananas are a close second, disgusting.
The point of all this, is now that I have a walking and (sort of) talking little mini me, I have become part of her daily entertainment. She loves to feed everyone, and seeing as I am around her most of the time, I am her favorite victim. I get soggy chewed on flings swirled over my tightly clamped lips like a little yellow lipstick. She will sit and chew on a piece of chicken for 10 minutes, spit it out and then sweetly say “ta” and try to jam it into my mouth. I was not paying attention the other day and got spitty bread in my mouth. I am just waiting for the day when she offers me poo or something dead.
She also likes us to smell stuff, her best offering is her Na na na na (if you have not read my post about her bunny, go find it, I have no idea how to add a link). God, no matter how many times we wash it, it is still the most disgusting thing. It gets dropped on shopping centre floors, visits all the parks in Cape Town and is slept on, sneezed on, farted on and gets dragged under her pram wheels at least once a day. And her favorite game is to stuff it in our faces until we have a deep and satisfying sniff of it. And if we don’t look like we enjoy it, we will have to smell it again and again until we agree with her that Bunny is flavour town.