Our Fourth started with explosions, shrapnel, and screaming, which is a bit dramatic, but true nonetheless.
I slept too late having forgot an alarm and was still in a foggy dream state when I opened the microwave door and watched myself slow motion fumble a Fiestaware heart of newly warmed, wet cat food.
The exploding pottery sent Olivia and Birdie flying as Miles and Sookie froze mid bites. I also froze as I felt warmth spread across one bare foot—it was cat food not blood—and regretted not getting dressed beyond underwear. I safely maneuvered to some flip flops only to turn and find Miles unfrozen and ready to investigate pottery sprinkled lumps of cat food with his mouth. So the screaming began.
If there is food involved, the only thing that will get his furry behind hustling is me screaming at the top of my lungs. He is not starved. He is fed regularly, and he did not need to ingest food topped with tiny ceramic bits! Sookie, in a weird moment of obstinance or bravery, more or less said fuck this noise and continued to eat her breakfast from her usual under the cabinet spot. Unfortunately, she was out a few minutes later trying to suck up food particles and got the same yelling treatment as Miles.
I suspect that I will be finding oddly located cat food crusties for weeks. The food looked like a blood spatter lab that our forensic class does every year. There were manageable lumps, but also a wide arc of minuscule fragments. The same could be said for the pieces of my former Fiestaware small heart bowl. This meant the dreaded vacuum!
No worries though. Everyone has now been re-fed including me, and returned to their natural state of lounging.
I hate to tell them that there will be more booms tonight. Please keep animals safe inside; they don’t enjoy explosions even when there are food particles.