Guess What Happens to My Food

A diversion from the poetry. Don't remember when I wrote this. It was inspired by my daughter Catherine when she was about five.

Little Catherine ran into the kitchen and poked at her mommy’s leg.
“Mommy, Mommy! Guess what happens to my food when I eat.”
Mommy looked down at Catherine. “Do tell.”
“Well, first you have to chew it real good with your teeth. And while you’re chewing it mixes with your spit.” Catherine giggled.
“That’s saliva, dear.”
“Yeah. And then when you swallow, it goes down your asparagus pipe.”
Mommy smiled. “I think you mean your esophagus.”
“Uh huh. And then it plops into your tummy and gets all mixed up with all the other food. I think that is so yucky. I like to eat my food one thing at a time.”
“That’s okay,” said Mommy. “You can’t taste it in your stomach.”
Catherine thought about that for a little bit and then said, “I know, but it’s still yucky.”
“Is that all that happens?” asked Mommy.
“No. Then it goes into your intestines where all the good stuff gets soaked into your blood. Did you know I’ve got a big intestine and a little intestine?”
“Yes dear, I knew that,” Mommy said with a wink and a grin.
“Then know what happens?” Catherine put her hand in front of her mouth to stop from laughing.
“No, what?” asked Mommy.
“You poop it out!” And Catherine fell on the floor laughing really hard.