My darling wife has this really cute mumsy thing where she spoon feeds me anything shes enjoying eating. Apart from the weird flashbacks of my feeding incapacitated, dribbling patients when I worked in nursing, and feeling like an oversized baby with no bib - the spoon always comes in just like this. No airplanes to make me open my mouth in laughter, no point of the spoon heading accurately towards my mouth. No, sideways just like in this photo. Stretching my mouth sideways unable to get the bowl of the spoon in my mouth, I dribble like one of my ex-patients. Meanwhile my shirt or pants receive kind splashes. This kind and happy photo no represents a fearful image, the spoon comes in fast - often loaded with curry, raspberry dessert, or anything capable of seriously staining my chinos. On a lucky occasion it is just a light Asian soup as was the case here - but then it will be so hot that I will burn my lips as its sidewinder approach confuses me. I actually understand this now as an cultural confusion over spoons. Chinese soup spoons are more like little bowls on a stick, more so than the soup spoons we know that are no longer included in cutler sets. They are meant to used sideways and drank from, and are made of porcelain, wood, or plastic - not soup hot, metal desert spoons of Elliott confusion and spillage. I picture myself in a wheelchair one day after a stroke, unable to move or speak, this grey haired old Chinese lover and wife of mine poised over me with her spoon. Me sitting there lovingly covered in stains with burnt lips. At least I will have a bib and a diaper. The horror story being her positioning my wheelchair in front of the Hallmark Channel during her hospital visit with me. Leaving me to stare at inane Days of our Lives repeats in contained horror, like Alex from A Clockwork Orange, unable to look away, screaming inside. The horror, the horror.
Posted on: Thu, 26 Jun 2014 15:56:52 +0000
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