Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Why did the crocodiles cross the road?


This week I’m in Paris.

The Eiffel Tower. The Louvre. The “authentic” existential cafes the Americans like to visit.

But the Moko’s done all that. And besides, it’s way too cold out to wander about along the Seine.

So it’s a quiet night in the hotel with me and my Haribo crocodiles. We’re playing Frogger. Whoever can make it across the bed before I eat them wins safe harbor.

(What the crocodiles don’t know is that my hand is much faster than their marshmallow-gelatine legs. They don’t stand a chance.)

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Mighty fine looking crocs! I bet there is not a one left by now...unless you accidentally lost one in the folds of your sheets...a happy surprise for later.

Moko said...

yeah, kinda like finding a morsel of chocolate stuck in one of your molars after you've brushed your teeth!

(sadly, no, i ate them all last night and didn't find any escapees this morning)