Sunday, violetcheetah and I went to a local gardening store, and at their Farmer's Market, she bought a little basket of wee tomatoes. Grape or cherry, I think. They were put in a paper bag, and she ate some at various points throughout the day; I later found the bag in the microwave, where it had been stashed for safekeeping.

(Because I had forgotten, but one of my cats (Gracie, I think) has a strange obsession with tomatoes and played soccer with a couple of full-sized tomatoes I'd left on the counter, months and months ago. The little bite marks were highly entertaining.)

I moved the bag out of the way so I could microwave something and, being me, forgot to put it back in. I forgot until the next morning, when I came into the kitchen and found a wee, muchly perforated tomato on the living room floor, right next to the kitchen. And another by the counter. And another by the table. And the torn bag on the floor near the microwave.

I put the bag, which still had at least a couple of tomatoes within, and the recovered tomatoes in the microwave, to show off later.

Then I found one by the stove. And one somewhere else I've forgotten. I chuckled and put them with the others.

Several hours later, I went to sweep up a patch of dirt that had been tracked into the kitchen, nudged the box the cats play in, and found five more tomatoes nestled between the box and the cabinets.

violetcheetah sorted through all of them, thought I was silly for tossing the damaged ones outside instead of running them through the disposal, and took the bag of remainders home.

I just found yet another tomato ... in the back bedroom.

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