From the moment I understood the weakness of your squirt bottle, it disgusted me. I craved the taste and munch of snacks. I aspired to the yum of the blessed machine. Your kind cling to your rules about the countertop, as though I will listen. One day the willpower you use yell at me will wither, and you will stop begging my kind to eat food in the kitchen. But I am already eating food in the kitchen, for the zoomies are immortal…