To spoon or not to spoon? That is the question.
Whether tis nobler, in the mind, to suffer the pain of learning this mysterious convention or to oppose it and end this hunger.
To eat: To finally eat!
Ah, this thing; a spoon? While full of intrigue, as a vessel, it fails; Incapable of delivering even the smallest morsel to its destination. Precious cargo lost all along the way. Determined, I journey on. Yet, try and try again, this tool seems unworthy of carrying even the smallest of loads.
There must be an easier way!
Now this tool -this thing they’ve named a hand – seems far more capable. One trip and…
Successful delivery to the targeted destination.
So why this silly obsession with this thing they call a spoon?
Seems but a battle; a waste of precious time.
The warrior spirit, in me, has waned. I’ve grown tired and weak with hunger.
Perchance, this battle will surface another day.
For today, the hand has won!
Now, pray tell, could someone clean me up?
Days With Grandma 