that bizarre food guy
he has nothing on my kid
raw snails, anyone?
There has been so much rain this summer, we have snails on our front door and some kind of mossy fungus growing on the curb outside the house. The mossy fungus I can deal with, and I THOUGHT I could deal with the snails. That was until they became lunch.
Sometimes, it is necessary, even "required by law" to not leave your small children unattended while you spend hours outside with your puppy trying to convince him that there’s nothing wrong with pooping on wet grass.
In my attempt to keep my kids from strangling themselves and/or swallowing balloons and/or climbing up the wall Nightcrawler style, I make them come out with me while I’m on poop patrol. Usually, this isn’t a problem. They love being outside, especially if it’s sprinkling and especially if the wee one can sing his new dingleberry song. (yes, yes, it’s my fault he knows what a dingleberry is – well, it’s the DOG’S fault. It is NOT my fault, however, that he chooses to replace the words to "Jingle Bells" with "Dingleberry." It’s pretty damn funny, actually. And I know I shouldn’t encourage it, but I kind of do.)
So we’re outside. The dog is all, "WTF, yo? These paws don’t touch wet grass. i thought I told you that." And I’m grouchy and the wee one is singing, "… dingle all the waaaay," and I notice that the wee-er one is quietly crouched down, popping things in her mouth rapid-fire like. I think, "Fuck, it’s those rocks again!" But no. Upon further, harrowing, inspection, it is not the fucking rocks.
She is eating snails.
Crunching them with her eight sharp teeth.
Leaving bits of chewed up snail and jagged shell all over her tongue.
And as I’m sweeping snail bits and shell pieces out of her mouth I’m wondering if there’s a merit badge for this, and also if I’m going to throw up now or wait to get inside.
Sooooo gross. So completely, horribly gross to have tiny bits of chewed up snail on your fingers and a flailing, pissed off baby under your arm, and a dog who will undoubtedly poo as soon as you step foot inside, and a kid who is screaming "IN A DINGLEBERRY SLEIGH." Now I understand why none of the new neighbors have introduced themselves to us.
The wee-er one is asleep now, spent from her post snail eating tantrum.
And I have just realized I never washed my hands after The Incident.
Stupid fucking nasty ass slimy sticky snails. Bleh.