I bought the Prince an entire roasted chicken.
Oh, sure, I protested. I did not want to have a whole chicken carcass in my fridge, believe me.
But he begged and he pleaded. He told me he wanted nothing else. Only chicken would satisfy his hunger.
I caved and spent 8 of my dollars on a dead chicken even though part of my vegetarian rulebook is that I don't spend money on meat.
I have never seen a happier Prince. When we got home, he dove into that thing with glee; he didn't even wait for me to make a salad.
I thought the incident had passed; that I'd taken care of his meat cravings for a while.
Until last night, when he said "I think my next meat treat should be a steak. A big, huge steak. Or a LOBSTER. Oh, I want lobster so badly."
|Happy lobster. [via]|
I sat there, eyes wide, coming to terms with the fatal error I had made in buying that fucking chicken.
"You can't possibly think that we're buying you more meat, or that we're starting some kind of habit that's called a 'meat treat'" I said.
"Well, you bought me a chicken. A whole chicken. So I figure a little lobster might be okay."
"If you bring home a live lobster, you know that I'll try to make it a pet. You can't just bring home animals and kill them."
"If the water is hot enough when you throw them in, there's no lobster screams. It would be totally fine."
"Yeah. They make noise if they don't die instantly."
"I DRAW THE LINE AT YOU USING MY KITCHENWARE FOR MURDER."
"NO. NO LOBSTER EXECUTIONS. NONE. NO LOBSTERS AT ALL."
"Fiiiiiiiine. How about the steak, though? You're good with steak, right?"
Terrified of finding blood in the fridge,