Cornbread

I love cornbread. The yellow, crumbly, cakey wonderful stuff.

We were lucky enough to receive some for dinner the other night and I was just polishing it off.

I took a piece to my bedroom b/c I was in the mood to read. As I sat on the bed, I had the fleeting thought, "Hmm.. this could make a huge mess if I'm not careful..."

I nestled in with my book and thought nothing of it.

Enter Eric, the once happy-husband-turned-housemaid due to the recent internment of his wife and is now uber conscience of what it takes to keep a house clean:

surprised - "Oh, you're eating crumbles in the bed..."
...
concerned - "... on my side..."
...
alarmed - "... with HONEY!"

I start laughing b/c I had the similar thought (mentioned above) but did not notice all the other circumstances Eric was now bringing to light.

This laughing causes Eric to give me a playful swat just as I'm eating the last piece of yellow-heaven.

And that's how sticky yellow crumbles land on the mattress.

exasperated - "You're cleaning that up."

Poor guy is a good sport.
He wasn't even actually mad even though we both knew who was going to clean it up.