Is one more than seven?
Jun. 8th, 2019 03:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyToday I had to go to the pet supply shop to stock up on Fancy Feast for Mister Cat. The shop has made a big deal about not stocking pets from pet farms; instead, they have a deal with the RSPCA. They have a big mesh cage (as in, I've seen four people walking around in it), and the RSPCA provides kittens to live in it. Visibility and socialisation for them, which is good. Today there were two kittens: a ginger one curled up in its bed, and a tortoiseshell sitting up on a climbing frame, ready to play. I got to boop its nose through the mesh and it swiped at my finger with both paws. Imagine the to-do if I brought it home. I'm not sure if Alistair would hide or eat it.
Then I went to the supermarket with my mother. In the fruit section, I noticed some Papples (TM). I have never heard of Papples (TM) before. They are pears that have been grown to look like apples. You know, for all those times when you want to eat a pear but wished it was round, or all those other times when you want to eat an apple but wished it tasted different. I must admit, I thought there were already apple-shaped pears in the world, but apparently the good people of New Zealand invented this particular variety and trademarked it. Papples (TM). And because I enjoy a novelty fruit, I bought some.
I didn’t care for them. They live up to expectations, in that they look like apples and taste like pears, but they didn’t taste like particularly tasty pears. Maybe I picked a bad batch. Or maybe I will stick to apples that taste like apples and pears that look like pears.
But that’s in the future. In the past, when the world was young and I didn’t know what Papples taste like, back in the supermarket, I started unpacking the trolley. I put the dairy items on the conveyor belt, then the fruit, and then my mother, who was holding the shopping bags, decided to plonk them down on top of everything. I said to her, mock sternly, “Don’t squash my Papples!” The checkout lady heard this and sort of squeaked, “Don’t squash my Papples!” and started giggling. And once she started, she couldn’t stop, which made us laugh, and also the woman queuing behind us. Poor lady. She had to have a drink from her water bottle and take a few deep breaths, and even then she kept giggling quietly while she put our groceries through.
Then I went to the supermarket with my mother. In the fruit section, I noticed some Papples (TM). I have never heard of Papples (TM) before. They are pears that have been grown to look like apples. You know, for all those times when you want to eat a pear but wished it was round, or all those other times when you want to eat an apple but wished it tasted different. I must admit, I thought there were already apple-shaped pears in the world, but apparently the good people of New Zealand invented this particular variety and trademarked it. Papples (TM). And because I enjoy a novelty fruit, I bought some.
I didn’t care for them. They live up to expectations, in that they look like apples and taste like pears, but they didn’t taste like particularly tasty pears. Maybe I picked a bad batch. Or maybe I will stick to apples that taste like apples and pears that look like pears.
But that’s in the future. In the past, when the world was young and I didn’t know what Papples taste like, back in the supermarket, I started unpacking the trolley. I put the dairy items on the conveyor belt, then the fruit, and then my mother, who was holding the shopping bags, decided to plonk them down on top of everything. I said to her, mock sternly, “Don’t squash my Papples!” The checkout lady heard this and sort of squeaked, “Don’t squash my Papples!” and started giggling. And once she started, she couldn’t stop, which made us laugh, and also the woman queuing behind us. Poor lady. She had to have a drink from her water bottle and take a few deep breaths, and even then she kept giggling quietly while she put our groceries through.