You know that feeling when you're bobbling around in the kitchen preparing breakfast, still bleary with sleep, and the child you've set down on the floor goes quiet and you forget that quiet == ominous?
So you're pouring the hot water into the cafetiere, and you remember to look down, and you see your toddler is playing with the cat food. And you panic momentarily until you realise he's picking up all the scattered kibble and put it back in the bowl for the cat, which is rather sweet, although you make a mental note to wash his hands before you put him in his high chair for breakfast.
The cat comes in and weaves in and out of your legs, purring and mewling for his gooshy food. You tell him he'll have to wait because you're making the preschooler's porridge. The cat goes to his kibble bowl and stops trying to trip you, so you forget about him and the toddler again.
You come back in from putting coffee cups and vitamins on the dining table and you see the toddler having an animated and one-sided conversation with the cat, who is taking bits of kibble from the toddler's fingers. You stop to smile at this scene, until you see that the toddler is alternately feeding one bit of kibble to the cat and the next to...himself.
You gently pick up the toddler, say, "No, Keiki, the kibble is for the cat. It is not a good pre-breakfast snack. Let's wash your hands and wipe your mouth, shall we?"
It's a very special feeling, the one where the façade of calm is masking the internal screams of horror, isn't it?
So you're pouring the hot water into the cafetiere, and you remember to look down, and you see your toddler is playing with the cat food. And you panic momentarily until you realise he's picking up all the scattered kibble and put it back in the bowl for the cat, which is rather sweet, although you make a mental note to wash his hands before you put him in his high chair for breakfast.
The cat comes in and weaves in and out of your legs, purring and mewling for his gooshy food. You tell him he'll have to wait because you're making the preschooler's porridge. The cat goes to his kibble bowl and stops trying to trip you, so you forget about him and the toddler again.
You come back in from putting coffee cups and vitamins on the dining table and you see the toddler having an animated and one-sided conversation with the cat, who is taking bits of kibble from the toddler's fingers. You stop to smile at this scene, until you see that the toddler is alternately feeding one bit of kibble to the cat and the next to...himself.
You gently pick up the toddler, say, "No, Keiki, the kibble is for the cat. It is not a good pre-breakfast snack. Let's wash your hands and wipe your mouth, shall we?"
It's a very special feeling, the one where the façade of calm is masking the internal screams of horror, isn't it?
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(I mean I am totally with the OH MY GOD catfood is not for babies no, just on a totally examined scale: it's perfectly safe, he's probably drawn to it because of the huge amounts of umami they spray on the stuff, and everything about the rest of it is really very sweet.)
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But yeah, gently discouraging sharing Telstar's snacks is still on the agenda.
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SO TRUE. "How long has it been since I checked if ---?" "...Too long."
>> It's a very special feeling, the one where the façade of calm is masking the internal screams of horror, isn't it? <<
It IS. I'm sure the parent version is even more intense than the elementary teacher version, but even the dilute sort I get is ... really something.
Cat food is unlikely to hurt your kiddo, though.
Sounds like you're growing a sweet, helpful, empathetic toddler there!
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On the plus side, cat food has to be legally edible for humans, so nothing in the cat kibble will hurt him.
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http://www.insidejobs.com/careers/pet-food-tester
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As others have pointed out, the kibble won't hurt Keiki. And his sharing with Telstar says much that is good about him (and his parents).
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It's a cute story to the outsiders, even if it is terrifying to those on the inside.
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Oh, kids.
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The time that I found Oldest chowing down on the cats' food didn't surprise me; I've seen the photo of me at that age doing the same. The time when he discovered that the green peas he'd eaten had, er, passed through largely intact...that was my "aiiggh!" moment.
Middle and youngest came along after the cats had both died, so no surprise kibble-eating there. Though youngest once swallowed an earbud tip, which we only knew about because it showed up in his diaper.
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Hah! That sounds like quite an "aiiggh!" moment, indeed.
Keiki likes to munch on the raw runner beans when he picks them. Annoyingly, he takes a single bite out of each one - usually from the side - before he's willing to hand them over for cooking. :P
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