alright. I know. today I went a little too far.

not saying that just because practically I can finally walk now as I see no boundries in front of me, not at all. I really went a bit too far. with my tiny little too big appetite. too big to handle all by myself. I know you won’t believe me. after all why would you believe me if I told you that the huge banana porridge with at least one and a half toast I snatched away from mommy when she wasn’t looking wasn’t really enough a healthy sized breakfast I was looking for? that the selection of fruity snacks and yogurt that I had when I was with my nanny wasn’t enough for my lunch? that the cottage pie that I religiously spread all over my top wasn’t enough for my dinner option after all? ask yourself. seriously. would you believe me? of course you wouldn’t. and you know why? because it wasn’t enough! right? now you see what I’m talking about, don’t you?

to speak the truth I probably wouldn’t have gone that far if it wasn’t my daddy’s fault, for crying out loud! I mean it’s always his fault. when it comes to cooking, feeding and cleaning afterwards. and making all the big foss about it. who the hell cares, right?

well I can’t say that I was saddened when he pulled out another meal for me this very afternoon when I was waiting for my usual banana custard I like and eat all by myself. but also in fairness at the very beginning I was a bit of sceptical. after all this was the first time I saw this weird composition on my plate. only four almost gone off biscuits next to the dark purple pulp which could be anything or mean anything, as much as I’m concerned. well. but it wasn’t. thanks to daddy’s fault.

he laid it all out in front of me and showed me how to do the whole trick. he dipped a tiny bit of biccie it the pulp and then he let me have it. at first I didn’t notice anything suspicious. but then I took another bite. as previously also dipped in the little bit of the pulp. and although I know that the reminiscence of the so called petite madeleine dipped in the spoonful of the lime flower tea couldn’t yet occur in my little head, I know that I felt something and that I had a moment I will always be rememebered for. only a few moments after the second bite I reached out for the biccie myself and without any further guidance and with the total lack of supervision from my old pal I simply repeated the cycle. I dipped the biccie in the thing, whatever it was, and licked it. then I ate the biccie. then I realised that I have three more biccies left so I could repeat the cycle three more times. and so I did. the purple pulp that I was dipping either my fingers or my biccies in started to finally taste like the melted raspberries as I thought in the first place, but only towards the end of my feast, when I raised the whole plate and either scoupped it out or licked it out (who would care at this point, right?), I finally came up with the conclusion that it was a hot berries mousse indeed.

I know I probably shouldn’t have gone that far. daddy’s a busy man. mommy’s still at work. why would I make it difficult?…

nah. delete and backspace dad. it’s not how I should ask the question. so let me rephrase it. why wouldn’t I?