Catsmack? Yeah. I ate some Japanese cat food once by the same name. Thought it was chicken salad. It was late. I got home after everyone was in bed. I was tired but hungry. Found something in a tupper-ware tucked in the corner of the fridge. Uh huh. You got it. Tasted great on crackers with mayonnaise and a glass of wine. There was a downside, though. It gave me gas. And that wasn’t the end of it. My 12th grade daughter let me know the next morning exactly what I ate. She discovered the dirty dishes in the sink. Even worse, I was a teacher at her high school on a U.S. Army base in Japan. Yeppers. My daughter posted the story on Facebook and the school knew about it before I got to work. Kids were saying "meow " when I called role. Soldiers in the aisles at the PX would stop me and ask where the cat litter was.
That’s right. I got Cat-Smacked.
The moniker has stuck ever since. Kinda like it too. It’s a good story. My daughter and I still laugh about it. I admit it.