Last Night
Got home at 10:30 after watching an (unsuccessful, very important) experiment and then sorting through a hundred references.
Mr Bob: Are you grumpy?
Bob: No, just tired.
Mr Bob: Are you sure you are not grumpy? I made dinner.
Bob: No, just tired. It was a rather long day.
after dinner (which Bob just had a little of, as there was a free dinner associated with a talk earlier in the day.
Mr Bob (grinning): You sure you aren't grumpy? Would you like some desert? Desert will make you feel better!
Bob: I'm FINE......What do we have for desert anyway? (Sorting through a mental list of our freezer, which includes 5 tablespoons of freezer burnt vanilla ice cream ) We don't really have anything.
Mr Bob: (grin)
Mr Bob then returned to living room with a box of deserts from Finale (bakery off Harvard square).
I had a creme brulee. It was so amazingly good, I think I died. Then I stole some of Mr Bob's truffle cake. Then I died again.
I still have half a brulee for lunch today.
Can I have lunch now?
posted by Aislinn Sirk @ 9:11 AM
4 Comments:
*licks Bob's fingers*
Those sound yummy and yay for Mr. Bob for bringing dessert. That is gold! Men usually don't think of dessert. Most likely they think of booze.
I love Mr. Bob. I have not said that lately.
Zombs is a hussy.
Mr. Swami brings me leftover box lunches from his work. I would rather have Mr. Bob's offerings.
And what did you do after dessert?
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