Spam Lookalike

spam . . . not
Freddy is excited about lunch because he gets to try Spam for the first time. His mom told him she would serve it sometime this week and it is the end of the week, so he thinks today must be the day. He runs downstairs toward the dining room. As usual, he doesn’t wear his eyeglasses because they’re uncomfortable. But his myopic vision discerns a plate sitting on the dining table, which isn’t set but they’re an informal family. The closer he gets to the table, the better he is able to make out a pinkish, rectangular shaped piece of meat in the plate. Eagerly, he picks it up and bites down, but the texture is rubbery and the taste isn’t anything he’s ever had before.

“Dumbo!” Freddy turns around to the sound of his sister’s laughing.

“You’re eating my phone case. I left it there to soak in baking soda to get the stains off. Now, you put your teeth marks on it.” His sister charges over to him and grabs her case from his hands.

“Next time, wear your glasses, so you can see what you’re doing,” she says, as she walks away with her phone case and a faint smile.

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