YOU ATE WHAT?

10 July 2018
918

R. Linda:

I don't know if it be the heatwave in New Hampshire and me brain being fried, or the lack of enough sleep that would make one not pay attention, or both.

Pay attention to what you may ask, well, labels on food products for one. Yes, you will get your jollies from this, but I cannot laugh YET. Not until I know if any side effects land yours truly in hospital.

So here be the sad, sad story. I have been getting up at 4:30 to leave for work. This has been going on for the past month and has been wearing on me. Usually, I have the 9 to 5 thing going, with an occasional graveyard shift from 10 at night to 3 in the morning. I can tolerate that, but getting up before dawn to leave the house at 4:30 a.m. is a different dog. Not only do I have to drive to Boston, I have to drive back at 1 in all the lunchtime traffic. I get home, I do things around the house, the kiddos come home, and it's Da Time until 10 (no school, they get to stay up later), and I go to bed around 10:30 exhausted. And then, at 4, me day begins again, so to say I don't get sufficient sleep be an understatement. I also don't sleep well because I hate the drive to Bean Town, and when and IF I dream I'm driving.

That up there is me excuse for what I unwitting did to meself just yesterday afternoon. I rolled in at about 3 and had a half cup of tea with Mam and Tonya, to be polite. But I was more knackered than usual, so to get away from everyone, I went to Sean's camper out back, and he not being around, well, I took meself a nap.

At about 5:30, I awoke craving munchies. Since Sean contributes nothing to me household and eats all my food, I decided I'd help myself to his vittles (as he calls them). There in the cabinet were dried fruits in bags. Me, having a sweet tooth, opened the banana chips. In a daze, I sat on his couch, looking out the window at the kiddos playing a rather aggressive game of dodgeball. I realised I was thirsty, so I helped meself to a Pepsi Cola and went back to snacking on almost the whole bag of banana chips.

I probably would have finished the bag, but Tonya locating me sorry arse, came in to see what I was doing in Sean's camper.

"I needed a short nap, I did, and I knew with the kiddos I wouldn't get one, so I came in here," I said in way of explanation.

"Did you get one?" She asked.

"I did, and since I awoke feeling peckish I thought I'd have a snack and soda on Sean before I emerged from my hideout. Here have some; these banana chips are really good. Best banana chips I've ever eaten." I said, handing her the almost empty bag.

She looked at the bag, and then she looked at me like I was a nutter.

"What?" I asked.

"Do you know what you have been eating? Because these are not banana chips." She said.

"Yeah, they are, says so on the bag."

"Uh, no, did you even read the bag? Because you missed something important. Here, read what it says under the Banana Chips."

Well, holy moly, I had been eating dog treats! Oh, I know you'll think that hysterical, but I didn't.

See here:

Looks like any bag of dried fruit chips, doesn't it?

And then look what it says here:

FREAKING DOG TREATS!!!

 And even worse, it says:

NOT FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION!

"You drank half that soda bottle, which is all fizz and gas, and I would think that a bad combination," Tonya said, pointing at the Pepsi bottle.

"Well, I didn't know," I whined, noticing or more like feeling foam coming out of my mouth.

"Well, you do now. How do you feel? And do not drink that cola, you are starting to foam at the mouth. Put it down." She ordered as I had it almost to my lips.

"I feel freaked out. That's how I feel," I said, bubbles flying like spit as I spoke. "The one time I could take advantage of Sean like he does me, and he's bought freaking dog treats! He doesn't even have a dog, so what the feck?" I was starting to panic; yes, I was. I stood up quickly, foaming from the mouth and probably my ears.

"Well, I don't know why he has dog treats, but you need to see how you feel, and if you start to feel strange, I'll get you to a doctor. I think the carbonation in the soda is what's doing that." She pointed at me foaming lips.

"Doing what?" I asked for no good reason, but I was starting to panic.

"That," she pointed, "the foaming-at-the-mouth thing."

Just then, Sean came in and was startled to see us sitting in his camper. Then he took a double take at me foaming mouth.

"What's going on?" He asked, looking from me to Tonya and back again. "Me cos havin' a fit?"

Just as Tonya was going to answer him, I spoke over her, or more like spit over her.

"Here ya go, Sean, great banana chips; I just came in to get a soda; I'm all out. See ya later." I said, handing him the chips, which he opened and munching on as we exited his camper.

"Hey," he shouted after us, "these are good!"

Tonya grabbed the soda from my hands and handed it to Sean, telling him he should finish it, "Gabe only had a sip."

I waved, took Tonya by the arm and guided her inside.

"You are terrible." She said once inside. "Now I have two potential hospital victims."

"I will be fine, he'll be fine; he obviously doesn't know he's eating dog treats," I said, feeling quite self-satisfied. "AND YOU gave him that soda. So . . . ?"

It was 45 minutes later he appeared for dinner.

"Sean, you feeling ok?" Tonya asked him as he sat down.

"Yeah, why?" He asked, wiping dried foam from his lips and looking stunned at the residue on his fingers.

"You finish those banana chips?" I interjected.

"Yeah, they were really good. I got them down at Job Lot." He said but looked like he wanted to ask me a question.

"What section were they in?" Tonya asked like nothing was amiss.

"The dried fruits."

"Where exactly are the dried fruits?" She asked.

"By the pet section."

"Oh well, that explains it," I said to his puzzled expression. "Yeah, Sean, you look like you have a question, and I see dried foam on your mouth, so let me enlighten you, you bollocks, you and I ate dog treats that YOU bought. Those weren't banana chips; they were for a dog." I said as his expression went to horror. I sent O'Hare to the camper, and he bought in the bag I showed Sean to prove I wasn't joking.

"Oh dear, oh dear," Me Mam said, a hand pressed to her lips in horror. At least, that's what I thought her expression was until she continued, "You are both the most stupid people. Eating dog treats, no wonder you are alike; you are related, after all. It has to be that cursed O'Sullivan gene, I say." And she makes that clucking sound that she makes when she's annoyed. Then, under her breath, she said to Tonya, "I be so glad I be no true O'Sullivan. You see how it screws a body up. Look at 'em, the two of 'em, two peas in an O'Sullivan pod, the poor things." And shaking her head, she picked up her soup spoon and began to eat, ignoring us mostly only to look up, and if she saw us looking at her, she'd press her lips together in annoyance and shake her head, then she'd resume her meal.

So there I was, lumped in with Sean, who we know has no brain to speak of. I be rather insulted, but I can't get away from this now. Mam has told the entire neighbourhood what I ate and how the "other one" ate the treats, too, which she has to put up with. Like whatever!

Gees!

I be happy to report me and my stupid cousin are feeling no worse for wear after consuming dog treats. WHICH you can bet on my part won't happen again. Sean, well I can't vouch he won't go on a straight diet of the things.

Gabe
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