The other day I stepped on a kiwi, in my living room. It was great. Luckily for me, the kiwi wasn’t all that soft and I realized something wasn’t quite right when my foot was only halfway down, so the mess wasn’t terrible.
This is Lía’s new pastime: she recently discovered how fun it is to hang out on our table, where we keep the fruit bowl. And, oh, all those little, round, bouncy fruits make such perfect toys (bananas aren’t that great).
At least we know she’s smarter than Ralph.
What should we do? There are countless methods we could use to stop her from playing on the dining room table: we could blow on her face, spray her with water, make a loud noise or use some cat repellent spray. Or, we could keep our fruit elsewhere.
Today I found a grape smushed under my bed.