Feeding A Healthy...
/Feeding A Healthy Mind With Hungry Humor
Dinner time rings the bell, serving up a thoughtful message about using your noodle.
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“This is all a big joke to everyone,” exclaimed Paulie while tending the fields, commentary catching the Zebra’s attention, “one way, I am this royal highness figure born into a special life with all things planned out, and all I have to do is stand here in the field watching the Zebra naturally manicure the grass.”
Silence resonating, during the sunset hour, “then there is that side,” Paulie pointed south, “I am an affluent aristocrat helping those who are plain and simple, villagers.”
Following him faithfully, the black and white four-legged creature listened intently, hearing Paulie’s plea. “But who am I Zebra? What do I want?”
“Paulie come in, time for dinner,” Momma guarded the porch, “there it is again, what am I supposed to do now?”
Heeding the orders, the Zebra made his way into the barn where Poppa earlier prepared the feed bucket, leaving the light on, “make sure you lock everything up, Zebra.” Paulie suggested before scurrying towards the cottage house.
Two hops and crossing over the wooden boards transported the young hard-working youthful energy into a soothing warmth environment where smelling senses interpreted the sweet home environment.
“Red seasoning is almost done, then we can eat,”
“Pasta,” Paulie paused.
“I have some nice tender burger chunks and,”
“I am sure it's going to be delicious,” Paulie positively acknowledged.
After everyone settled, Paulie placed the napkin on his lap, ensuring nothing ended up leaving a messy trail, requesting cleaning. Walking over from the stove Poppa carried a bowl containing spaghetti while Momma brought a very hot pot filled with Italian gravy.
“Do you know Paulie? Why they drown noodles, using ragu?”
“No, Momma, why?”
As Momma spun the tale Poppa placed a heaping portion on Paulie’s plate, “well, Paulie once there was this athletically built competitor named Ragu who did not think things through and got into a fight which killed him, blood all over his body, local Chef Ardee said, ‘boy something had to be done’ and started putting meat sauce on all linguini macaroni to remind people to use their noodle upstairs before any rash decisions are finalized.”
“That was funny,” Paulie chuckled.
“Sometimes Paulie,” Momma started, “to send a message or drop a hint, making a humorous comment is a nice way to do it.”
“Like creating a ketchup dressing, for your noodles,”
“Exactly, good humor goes a long way in the end,” Poppa added.
Later, post whip cream sundae dessert, Paulie laid back in his bed thinking about his privileged life, “yeah which is it?” He asked himself, “aristocrat? Royalty? Princess Lida? Becky Sue? I have a sense of humor, either way, make your entree choice, rare or well done?”
By Marc OBrien
From: United States
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