Dinner Stories

“You know I don’t like red potatoes.” He said as he took two of them and put it on his plate. The red potatoes, boiled, were covered in salt and pepper. Like slime they slid across the milky white plate. He looked at them with slight disgust and blinded them with sour cream.
“Why are you destroying our yummy flavor?” the potatoes seemed to say. The red root veggies moved away a little as the chicken and green beans invaded their personal space.
Daniel stared at the potatoes with dermination. He had a plan: take one small bite, move them around on his plate a little, then quietly throw them away. She will never know. If I don’t make a big deal of it, I can pretend that I did eat these things.
He took his fork and pryed a small piece off. It looked huge. He opened his mouth and quickly stuffed the potato in and tried to chew. The chunky texture clawed at his taste buds trying to latch on. Daniel choked back the potato, trying to force it down his throat. Finally good triumphed and Daniel swallowed the potato piece almost whole
“Don’t worry about eating those potatoes sweetie,” the angel of hope said. She reached over to your plate and snatched the red jewels and popped them in her mouth for security. He felt relieved. No more bites. The red orbs of despair had disappeared and vomit averted.

there you go a little story i wrote about dinner tonite. have fun!

or space frogs will eat your jam.

moodalicous: impressed
songalicous: tempted by squeeze

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