My friend, Ted and I were having breakfast at my place a few weeks ago. Oatmeal. He took a heaping spoonful of buttery steel cut oats and shoveled them into his considerable maw. After a few chews his brows came together, his eyes widened, face reddened and he spit the oats out with enough force to startle the other Ted, my cat.
“Agh, my mouf is burning! What the hell is on this?” he asked.
“That? Oh, that’s tabasco, jalepeno and a little white vinegar,” I said.
“Why would you do that? Why would you make oatmeal with liquid fire?”
“Keeps the spoons happy."
"What?"
"Well, the spoons were upset with me because I kept giving them boring things to do like stirring tea. They said to make life a little more exciting for them or else they’d leave with the forks and then I’d have nothing to eat with except for the butter knives because they don’t like to travel.”
Ted never ate over my house again.
But my silverware is quite content and that’s what really counts.
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