Anyway, enough about pools. Sitting here, gawping at the photo, I’m wondering what possessed the child to eat a digit instead of her cha siu baau.
“What did it look like?” I asked in face-wrinkling fascination
“Dead,” she replied matter of factly
“Dead? What sort of Dead?”
“Limp Dead. Flacid, flabby Dead”
“What did it taste like?”
“Nothing really. Gotta run, bye Mama,” she said and put the phone down.
So the child eats digits and leaves body parts all over Europe. What does that say about her genetic heritage? Do you think it has something to do with the fact that the maternal branch of my family goes all the way back to Genghis Kahn?
(Aside: Apropos the body parts, I exaggerate a little. She had an emergency appendectomy while on a ski-trip in Austria. Oh, just in case you were wondering, the digit belonged to a broiled chicken foot.)