“Ooh, gross!” she said, but dug in anyway.
My rice soup came out next. Mmm. Until I noticed a black spot on a grain of rice. Closer inspection revealed it to be a boiled flea. Hmm. I picked it out, threatened to drop it on Brigitte’s bare leg, and then wiped it on the floor instead. I continued to eat. Several bites later, I discovered another one. I lifted it out with the tongs of my fork so everyone could inspect it. We made disapproving noises, and then it was flicked over the edge.
The third black spot gave us a fright. I flicked it away immediately without identifying it. “Let’s just pretend that was an ant,” Brigitte said, hoping to appease our breakfast companion, Rob. He was beginning to look queasy. I finished my bowl of rice soup without inspecting it closely. Even if there were more fleas in there, you couldn’t taste ‘em.