Word: Sippet

      

sippet

[sip-it]

noun

1. a small bit; fragment.
2. a small piece of bread or the like for dipping in liquid food, as in gravy or milk; a small sop.
3. a crouton.

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        “How are you still eating?” Julie asked.  Her face was scrunched in disbelief as her boyfriend, Kyle, used a small piece of bread to sop up a shallow pool of gravy.

               “Easy, like this.” He said and popped the wet bread into his mouth.

               Julie just looked at him with her face still locked in disbelief at his seemingly bottomless stomach.

               “You’ve had three servings.  How are you not exploding?”

               He tore another small fragment of bread off the much larger whole and continued to mop up the remainder of the gravy.  With the plate now devoid of the thick grey liquid flavoring, Kyle extended his tongue and placed the gravy laden bread on it.  He slowly chewed and swallowed the morsel before saying anything.

               “Easy.  Did you see me eat anything else today?”

               Julie thought back to the previous hours of the day.  She had indeed not seen him eat so much as a crumb.  But that meant little, since she had not been constantly watching him.  But the fact remained that she had not seen him eating until dinner started.

               “Well, no, but…”

               “That’s because I didn’t.  I haven’t eaten anything today until now.”

               “Dare I ask why?”

               “So I can eat more now.”

               Julie hung her head with a long-suffering sigh.  Had it been anyone else, she would not have believed him.  But, since it was Kyle, it was entirely believable.  The man lived for such meals.  Every other day, he ate like a normal person.  But, whenever there was any kind of large or festive meal, he went all out.  And of course, Thanksgiving was the mother of all big meals.  Their relationship was still very new, but she had still learned enough about him that she knew that much.  It was still hard for her to watch though.

               With the gravy gone, Kyle’s next piece of bread went towards wiping up the dregs of cranberry sauce.  The now sticky bread was then used to dab up whatever crumbs, specks, and other miscellaneous bits of food and sauce remained on his plate.  The food sponge followed its brethren into his mouth.

               “Please tell me you’re done now.” Julie asked.

               Kyle swallowed and thought.  She desperately hoped he was finished.  He did not think she had it in her to watch him down another full plate of food.  It hurt her stomach just to watch, even after she had finished her one plate. 

               “Well, I suppose so.” He said.

               Julie let out a breath of relief.  At least he had some kind of limit.  If he gone for a fourth round, she might have to stop thinking of him as a person.  More like a black hole contained in human flesh.

               “Only for now though.  I mean, I do have to save some room for dessert.”

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Try not to eat too much on Thanksgiving.  You'll just end up paying for it later.