Hagus the Horrible

There are many things that I never thought I'd ever hear myself say during my time as a parent. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd have to tell my children......

Get away from me with that plate of Hagus! Can't you see I'm trying to use the toilet!!!!!!!!

Yes, tonight was a new low for me. They picked the lock on the bathroom. Is there nowhere that is sacred anymore?! Five people of varying ages chased me around the house with a plate of steaming hagus telling me I had to partake of it in celebration of my Scottish heritage on Robby Burns day. What a load of hagus!

Do I wear a kilt? Do I throw around large logs just for the fun of it? Do I have a scottish accent?! No. I do not. My Grandfather came over from Scotland in his early 20's. That is long enough ago to separate me from this putrid dish!

During my childhood I ate blood pudding....and liked it. I ate head cheese....and liked it. (But know better now!) I never grew fond of kidneys, lamb, liver or any other organs that passed over my plate. I've eaten moose, deer, beeffalo and the odd bug that's flown between my teeth while on the back of a bike, but I have to draw the line at sheep organs and stuff neatly packaged in it's stomach. EWWWWWWWWWWW!

If terrorists ever were holding me captive and wanted information from me they could try and force feed me one of two things.....seafood or hagus. Both would be an effective tool in getting me to sing like a bird!

I love my family. I was running to get to an evening meeting. I took a miniscule pea sized bite.

chew....chew.....chewwwww.
heave!
run and spit!
scrub, scrub, scrub my teeth and tongue
eat a greek olive....not strong enough
eat a green apple...putrid flavour is starting to fade

So any one who is inclined to celebrate, Happy Robby Burns day, BUT DON'T GET TALKED INTO EATING THE HAGUS!