Revenge of the Sherpa

My sherpa, a faithful reader of this blog, will get much satisfaction from this post. I have gotten even with Charlie on her behalf.


Remember how people in China kept trying to feed us things described as "local delicacies" which cause most westerners to lose their appetites instantly? Remember how my sherpa kept turning green and either skipping a meal completely while pushing food around her plate with her chopsticks to politely look like she was eating, or begging at the next table over if it had something more appetizing-looking than ours?


And the whole time this was going on, Charlie was having a grand old time, eating things like dog meat and ostrich kidneys and duck innards of varying sorts, and laughing his head off at the colors our faces turned at the thought of touching what he was wolfing down.


Today was payback time. You're in America now, boy. For lunch I threw some Gorton's fish fillets in the oven and made a pot of macaroni and cheese.


He likes noodles. I don't know what his problem is. But the minute I set that plate down in front of him, he morphed into a picky teenager. Turned up his flat little nose and waved his hand in the Chinese sign for "no." Turned a funny color, too.


Revenge...how sweet it is.