Sheba

"Hello," meaning good-bye, I said to the relatives in the kitchen that I didn't want to talk to. The trick is to say "hello" but not slow down or speed up at all as you make your way through the room and out the door. This way it doesn't seem like you're trying to avoid them, as speeding up would give away, nor are you interested in a nice leisurely talk as slowing down would indicate. Success! Christina and I made it out of the house from our rooms in record time, and the best part is neither of us needed to be sacrificed to get the other out. It was a successful mutual rescue operation. As we made our way down the driveway to her car parked out front, I stopped at the mailbox for yesterday's mail. In it I found two magazines, some kind of bill or junkmail, and an all black box with gold lettering, about the size of a birthday card and an inch thick sealed in heat-shrink plastic. The box was right on top of the mail and addressed to Christina from (and i'm sure with love) Stop and Shop. Before I had a chance to close the mailbox (nothing of interest for me in there) Christina read the label and snatched the packaged addressed to her from the top of the pile. She was grinning, I was jealous. I knew as well as she that not only was this free gift FREE, it also could not disappoint. No box this beautiful could contain anything but an amazing treat. We got in the car and she immediately started to tear at the package to no avail. The darn plastic was tougher than cowhide. "Stop and Shop loves me more than you," she said to me almost under her breath. She reached for anything that she thought could puncture this invisible forcefield keeping her from her rightful prize inside. She tried tearing it with her teeth and poking it with her fingernails; nothing was working. Finally she was able to tear it off by first skewering it with a metal pin within her desperate grasp. The box would not open from the end as she expected. It taunted her. "I'm going to get chocolate!" I could see her eyes were bright and eager to catch the first glimpse of what was inside in the hopes of soothing the anxiety of not knowing. It seemed like a top flap was glued down, so she lifted one corner and the pried the other corner free from the glue's hold. She lifted the top and swung it open on it's hinge to reveal the treasure to both of us at the same time. Inside the box was a golden circle nestled in a custom fit depression, and on the reverse side of the flap, slightly covered by her thumb was a giant picture of a black cat. "Oh!" we both cried out simultaneously, followed immediately by embarrassed laughter like we were each caught on a hidden camera show. It was cat food! Upon further inspection of the mystical black box, it turned out that there were plenty of indications that the gift was cat food were we to only read the secrets hidden in the beautiful gold lettering. Phrases like "Sheba cat food" and "cuts of meat," suddenly popped off the black box in a ridiculing way. At least The Kitten will enjoy Christina's gift tonight.