What does the world cost? Oh well, then we'll just take a small coke.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Is that your bear growling?

I just ate a lot of food. I sat down at the dinner table feeling slightly hungry and ate an entire large bowl of steak stew, a wonderful food that seems to make room for itself. The salty, savory scent of the scintillating delicacy called for more, even though it was satisfyingly scrumptious.

So I had a second bowl. Then I ate some bread, for one is always in want of carbs, and had a third bowl of that awesome stew. Feeling somewhat discombobulated by the sudden caloric intake, I paused for a brief moment to collect myself and to halt the involuntary reflux I felt in my esophagus.

The feeling passed and I ate a fourth bowl of stew. With each bite, my mastication slowed. My stomach sent signals to my mouth that I'd had enough and my salivary glands responded by reducing their production of needed. I knew I'd had enough, so when I finished the bowl, I pushed it away, happy with a filling meal (or is it filled with a happy meal? I haven't been in that situation in years...).

That's when dessert was brought out. A pumpkin pie with ice cream. I thought first that I would just have the pie. That orangey spice filling seemed to call my name and I was dying to taste the seasonal delicacy. I cut myself a large piece and sucked it in like a Hoover vacuum. Boy that was good. Then the ice cream I'd declined started calling my name. White, smooth and lightly sprinkled with sparkling diamonds from the frozen ice, my mouth began to water with the thought of the cream melting over my tongue.

It took me less than a minute to serve and devour the vanilla ice cream. I had a bad case of brain freeze, but I was happy... at least until I noticed that some of the pie was still left. It would be a shame, I rationalized, to leave that out or put it away until later. Not when it could be eaten now.

This time I ate my pie piece with the ice cream on top. It was better that way.

At last, more stuffed than a Superman block or a Thanksgiving turkey, I waddled to my bed to focus my entire being on digestion.

That's when the growling started. It was a slow, rumbling growl, like the disgruntled remonstrations of a cornered barnyard animal. Then it became more intense. It acquired the intensity of a hyena and gained the pitch of a rabid wolf. Sometimes the noise would cease for a minute or two, only to return stronger than before. The growling pulsated with each wave of digestion. Every time it returned, I squinted, thinking of a new animal noise the sound from my tummy reflected.

"C, do you hear something?" It was my roomie, F, who pulled his iPhone earbuds from lobes to voice his complaint.

I grinned. This is something I should do more often.

1 comment:

Amë said...

Why must everyone be talking about yummy food as I try to diet?!?!? I think you all have conspired against me and want to de-rail me and make me gain weight. You have no compassion. Why must you be so mean?