hatboy eats the evil noodles

we’ve had a packet of two-minute noodles collecting dust in our kitchen for years. ninjagirl doesn’t really go for this particular brand of noodle, and i seldom cook anything which has arms and legs and probably its own language.

however, hatboy has no such considerations for new lifeforms so breaks open its plastic skin, stabs it with a fork to make it keep still, and cheerfully deposits it into a pot of boiling water. the poor noodles squeal and struggle, but he stirs them in until they are quiet again.

then he drops in some of those frozen peas which have been there since one of our other squatters died of food poisoning. i hadn’t wanted to throw them away just in case some hoboes found them in our bina and fell victim to the same fate.

i tell hatboy he’s being foolish.

“there’s other food in the fridge, you know. some of it’s fairly new.”

he strains the noodles and begins piling them up onto a bread roll, determined to create his patented noodleburger. he lays strips of cheese across the cooked noodle, crushes its legs and arms into the roll, squeezes some sauce onto the top, then closes the roll and proceeds to munch.

apart from witnessing several small green goblins rolling a snowman up my stairs, he says the noodleburger was just dandy.

“but it really needed some mayo.”