I came home from work, exhausted and hungry. My boyfriend had texted me promises of pizza that were still about 45 minutes away, so I made myself a s’more in the toaster oven. This was a meticulous process that involved flipping the marshmallows over at even intervals on the graham cracker to get a perfect gooey-yet-toasted consistency. After my very first bite of this glorious pre-dinner dessert, the cat slinked in and proceeded to eat a giant moth in the middle of the living room. Keeping the s’more in my hand, careful not to let a single crumb fall on the floor, I shrieked at the cat and approached quickly, trying to shoo him away from his prey. He is stalwart and keeps eating.
I am bested. I sat down on the floor next to him where we stayed until I finished my s’more. We made resigned eye contact for a long time before he leaves again in search of his second course.