I like eating. It's what I do best. People will come up to me and say, 'Eat this!' And I will oblige and eat whatever they're handing me. I have a hard time saying no. And I think people have started to clue into this, because people have been feeding me what I call 'non-food items,' (or NFI for short). Like branches. You know how hard it is to finish a branch? A lot of chewing. A lot of work.
I think this goes back to the time of my childhood; I have fond memories of my mom spoon-feeding me delicious muck when I was seven. She'd go, 'Ah,' and I'd go, 'Ah,' and before I knew it there was a spoon in my mouth and I was slurping up whatever she gave me. Then the spoon would exit, and with-ever-more care it would be dipped into the jar of food, and then the process would repeat itself.
So, yeah. That's why I ate that sandwich. I thought you were handing it to me, and I just went for it. Also, I'm really sorry for your finger. Not sure how my teeth work, exactly, but I think that fault might lie with you--don't put fingers near my mouth. I will probably eat them, like a dog who overestimates the size of its treat and underestimates the size of the treat-giver's fingers.
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