t is for tomato ripe in my hand

this evening cohen and i were chatting with each other in the kitchen as i emptied the dishwasher when out of the corner of my eye i saw him perch on his toes and reach for something. i quickly turned, prepared to pull yet another do not put in mouth object out of his hand or his mouth or both, but to my surprise he was standing with a tomato in his hand. i have a few in a bowl right at his reach level on the windowsill ripening. i was curious what he would do with it so i let him be. i didn't have to wait long for the answer as in one fell swoop he charged towards his mouth with the fleshy red skin and chomped off an enormous bite, juice running down his chin onto his pajamas and covering the floor. well i'll be. so he doesn't like them when i cut them up and place them in front of him at dinner, but in his hand all at once making a mess they are great? so i sat and i watched as he devoured the whole thing, puddles littering the floor, seeds scattered from one end to the other. deciding he was finished he got up to leave only to learn a hard lesson about slippery when wet. not one to be knocked down he kept standing up only to slip back down. don't worry he wasn't getting hurt, instead he looked like he was doing some sort of comedy routine and as a result i couldn't stop laughing. eventually he was back into the bath, for the second time tonight,and i mopped the floor. i had been meaning to get to it anyway, i guess he was just giving me incentive.