You would think that one taste of tinned catfood would be enough to decide not to try it again.
Not if you’re a two year old, apparently.
I can spend hours slaving away in the kitchen making delectable morsels for my child to turn her nose up at, but let her get her hands on a 99 cent tin of budget cat food and she’s in culinary heaven.
It all started recently when she discovered how to open the fridge door – open, shut, open, shut, what a fun game that was. Her fridge exploration appears to only take place when I’m otherwise occupied for a lengthy period of time, i.e. a diarrhoea explosion with her sibling, digging graves for miscellaneous winged creatures that my cats have tortured, or attempting to retain my brains during the Zombie Apocalypse.
The first object of her desire was my cranberry juice, closely followed by the tub of margarine. Both were liberally relocated all over the kitchen floor, before her attention was arrested by the tin of cat food. Being of a compassionate nature towards her furry friends, she decided to feed them. And feed them. And feed them. We’re still trying to decide if our 7 month old cat’s large belly is a result of her overzealous feeding, or a belly full of paws and claws.
Unfortunately, Miss 2 is currently in the copying everything that Mummy does phase, which means the fridge lock I fitted was no problem for someone with good observational skills to crack.
Then, yesterday, she decided that she was no longer a little girl, and had been transformed into a kitten who spent a lot of time crawling around on the floor and making high pitched mewling sounds. I should have realised that extra vigilance with the fridge would be required, but was distracted by a malfunctioning DVD player and an overtired boy having a tantrum because he wanted to watch Cars 2. Just an FYI, chocolate muffin stuffed in a DVD player will kill it.
I’ll give you three guesses where Miss 2 snuck off to while I was otherwise engaged.
I caught her trying to feed the cats with a suspicious ring of gravy round her lips. When asked if she had been eating the cat food she positively beamed as she announced that she had, like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. Grabbing the tin and spoon off her, I took them inside without realising that she had already placed food in one of the cat bowls. I returned to find her down on her hands and knees, taking turns with the cat to stick her head in the bowl and lap up the food.
Sadly, she isn’t the only one of my children who ate cat food.
So, theoretically, in these harsh economic times is it okay to feed a child 99 cent tins of catfood if they really, really like it?
PS if your child indulges in cat food tasting and is of a very huggy and kissy persuasion like mine, you might want to clean their mouth out with industrial strength mouthwash to prevent your breakfast and lunch making a re-appearance.