In this case, it was the leftover crescent roll that was in a plastic sandwich baggy on the kitchen counter. It was sitting up there calling to me. I could almost hear it say, "Chloe, you know you want me. Mommy's not looking. No one will ever know if you eat me."
So I jumped up on the counter, grabbed the bag that held the crescent roll, and quickly carried it upstairs. I ran straight to my room, sat on my scratch mat and started tearing into it.
|It smells soooo good!|
The more I tore into the bag, the better it smelled. Soon I was tearing plastic and nibbling bread faster than I could have ever imagined! It was a terrific feeling. And the best part was that I was safely hidden upstairs away from anyone who could fuss at me.
|I can't take my face out of this bag.|
Wonderful, glorious, delicious bread! The smell, the taste, the texture; it's all so overwhelming to me. Sometimes I wonder, am I the only kitty with this problem?
Is it really all that strange, as Cheerio and Daffy tell me, that I prefer to eat the bread of a sandwich that we have bummed from one of the humans, while they eat the meat and cheese? Cheerio tells me that bread is inedible, that it's just the "wrapper" for the meat. But I'm sure he's wrong. Nothing this delectable could be merely a wrapper.
|Oh, no! Some one's coming!|
Are there any other kitties out there with this same problem? Am I the only one addicted to bread?
More importantly, is there anyone with easy access to fresh, warm bread that they are willing to share?