The list of my previous professions is as long as any of Kev’s shopping lists from ‘B & Q’ when he was back in the glory days of daily updates to his house. It got so bad that rather than daily deliveries they just built a B & Q Warehouse next to his ever-expanding mansion and wheeled whatever he needed over the road. That’s service for you.
My new job was thrust upon me by someone else though. For once I have not chosen it for myself, it was a gift from a friend. Who was it? I can’t remember, either Tom or Kev. That part isn’t important, look at me will you?
So we are all sat around the local Harvester having a swell old time eating some free salad and swapping stories about how mental our respective kids are. When the main food arrives everyone, or mostly everyone, sets about stuffing the chow down their gullets. I got my chops around a tasty piece of gammon with both (controversial in some parts) egg and pineapple. Some of our party however were a little reluctant to indulge. How does one convince a child of a young age to stop titting about and start eating? There are a number of ways, some good and some bad. The best way, so it would seem, is to threaten the child with me.
“If you don’t eat your food up, Uncle Ian will start eating it himself and you don’t want that now, do you?”
Do I really want some lukewarm cheesy pasta, possibly scattered with a smattering of phlegm and sneezed upon? No. Do I like the fact that I am now being flaunted as some kind of food boogie monster? Yes, very much so. Whilst initially being a little hesitant to accept the role now handed to me like a hand grenade made of poisoned spikes, I am willing to take that box of beans and run the rest of the way. I can finally command the kind of respect I have been looking for all these years, through a mix of fear and abject misery. They will concoct a rhyme about my exploits. I will be looking over the shoulder of every stubborn eater, with my mouth open and a fork poised, ready to strike when they lean back to take a little rest.
YES! Hear my name and fear my shadow. I am coming for your half-eaten burgers, your shunned lasagne and garlic bread, your unhappy quiche and ignored leftover pizza. I am coming for you.
“You dare not leave your plate alone,
He’s creeping up like a silent drone,
With eyes of fire and stomach of steel,
He’s coming to take your unguarded meal!”