Long term readers may remember the time I murdered Mr. Butternut, the eternally enduring vegetepal that Tilly created from a butternut squash.
Last year, she went through a phase of turning random household objects and foodstuffs into beings. My particular favourite was a satsuma she turned into a facsimile of Shia LaBeouf. Sadly, he went mouldy.
I think this might be the problem with the real Shia LaBeouf too, frankly.
The humanising of things seems to have taken a bit of a back seat to other activities recently. I cannot say I am sorry about this. It is very troubling to eat things with a face, and I know that come the zombie apocalypse I will have to become a vegetarian because faces are just too difficult.
Having said this, I did have to kill another vegetepal on Friday.
This time it was Mr. Catternut, who rather like Mr. Butternut, had resided in the vegetable rack for weeks and weeks, complete with paws, a white bib, ears and whiskers.
I sliced him up as quickly as one can slice a vegetable that is as enduring as granite, turning his face to the wall as I hacked into him. I scooped his remains into the bin, and learning from last time I murdered a squash, I buried him deep.
So far, nobody has noticed that he has gone, for which I am profoundly grateful. Once they do the accusations will come in thick and fast, and I really cannot blame them.
You know what they say:
Once is a mistake. Twice is a habit. Three times is a pattern.
I am sharpening the knife for Shia LaButternut.