Fleegle sits next to me on the couch, watching my every bite. “You know, the proper way to eat pizza is with your hands, not on a plate with a fork,” he says.
“And how would you know this?”
He jerks his nose at the television screen. “That’s how everyone on your television does it. Maybe you missed that lesson. You think I just sleep, but sometimes I watch it too.”
“Eating it by hand when it’s hot is a quick way to burn the roof of my mouth and ruin the whole pizza experience.”
“How’s that Parmesan taste?” Drool dangles from his lower lip. “Aren’t you glad you put on extra like I told you to?”
“Most of it has fallen off onto the plate.”
He licks his lips. The drool breaks free. “Yes, I’ve noticed. You’re lucky to have such a good plate cleaner handy.”