I Ate My Mommy

When I woke up this morning there was a whole lot of snow outside. Mommy said that we were going to be "snowed in" for awhile. What Mommy didn't tell me was that she forgot to go grocery shopping the day before and there was no food in the house. I need to eat as soon as I wake up and Mommy knows that. She says I turn into a monster if I don't get something to eat but I don't think I'm quite that bad. Mommy made up a breakfast consisting of one leather wallet, diced and broiled, stewed cantaloupe rinds, something Mommy called fruit pants and a big glass of water. I told Mommy that I hate water and refused to touch anything. I started getting really hungry but I would not give in. Many hours passed and then maybe a day. I don't remember much from that day. I have three very distinct memories though. One was an Istanbul newspaper from 1972, next I recall a very shiny thing and then the last thing I remember is a pile of bones all arranged to spell out GOODBYE MOMMY. Oops! I ate my Mommy.