Zoo Patrol

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I don’t know about you, but I really enjoyed the (can’t say the REAL name because it’s copyrighted or trademarked or something, but it rhymes with Zoo Patrol). Not only was it an exciting game that only got more exciting as the clock ticked down, but I also ate like a pig. We had a group of about 50 people at the house, and since it was pot luck we had enough food for twice that many.

We had been busy as beavers getting ready for the Zoo Patrol party, and I was as hungry as a horse by the time the herd began arriving. Now, I don’t exactly have the memory of an elephant – not by a long stretch – but I remember enough from other parties to know that the early birds get the worm when it comes to food selection.

My job as host was to be a social butterfly, of course, which could have made it difficult to get in some serious grazing, but when it comes to food, I am as sly as a fox.

I did my socializing in the kitchen, where the food was.

When a big play caught everyone’s attention, I would slip in – quiet as a mouse – and snatch a tasty morsel. When the game got really exciting (in the last few minutes), I went in whole hog and piled the food on my plate.

I was happy as a clam.

The real problem began after everyone had left. All that feeding at the trough began to catch up to me. I must have been crazy as a loon to think I could eat all that food without consequence. Before long I was as sick as a dog and angry as a hornet (at myself) for overindulging.

I was tired and really wanted to hit the hay, but the rumblings in my stomach forced me to be a night owl until it all quieted down. I should have taken it easy in the food department, but instead I charged in like a bull in a china shop and gorged myself like a pack of wolves on raw meat. Should have known better.

Did I learn my lesson? Probably not. Will I do it again for the next Zoo Patrol?

Of course.

Silly goose.

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