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February 01, 2004

Going Toastal

We're all settled in bed.

The covers are up. Fabulous Babe is lying on her side breathing softly as I hunker down. Her most favorite guilty pleasure after "The Real World", "Survivor", is wrapping up. It's just about time to go nitey night.

"I'm hungry."


"Didn't you hear that? That's my stomach. Can you go make me some toast?"


"Sure thing."

Downstairs I go. The cats are roaming around and give me that "Ha ha! You had to get out of the warm bed to come down here and make toast!" look.

I stand in the kitchen standing on the cool wood floor as the Toaster Oven does its thing. Pretty soon it *dings* and I'm on my way back upstairs lugging the plate of toasty goodness. (Cinnamon, sugar, butter and a dash of honey.)

FB sits up in bed and after the handoff begins woofing it down.


"No problem."

"I didn't mean to go toastal."

How can I be annoyed with a woman that clever?

Posted by Jim at February 1, 2004 11:22 PM


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