So, it finally happened. The dirty deed was done. We have officially ended the life of and consumed a guinea pig. The reflection:

We finished work last Thursday a little worn out and tired. Waiting in ther girls´room for lunch to be ready Jenny was convinced she smelled chocolate cake. Unfortunly, it was anything but. Ben ran into the room with a crazed look in his eyes. He calls me out to the kitchen and tells me to look in the oven. I then realize that it was not chocolate cake, but rather two gutted guinnea pigs, heads and eyes intact, staring right back at me.

We walk back into the girls room and I ask the question, “What starts with a G and rhymes with pinny wig?”. The girls screamed.

When lunch came we recieved a plate with a single guinnea pig on it. We sectioned it into sixths and Jenny took the first tentative bite. Not bad was the concensus. I took a bite of my piece, the left, rear leg. A little chewy. Dark meat. Crispy skin. Not terribble. It tasted like an old chicken.

Everyone ate their pieces (granted a guinnea pig doesn´t go a long ways when it´s split six ways) and then moved on with their lives. Nothing too exciting, but were glad to have had the experience.

: )