We had a really nice date and walnut loaf in the house, and I decided a slice would nicely top off our lunchtime scrambled egg on toast.
So as I waited for the egg to finish cooking, my Beloved watched the toast and I took the buttered slices and put them on the occasional table between our lounge chairs for later.
Served the scramblers, picked up our glasses and headed to the lounge with the uneasy feeling that the Little Black Dog was not under our feet as is normal when there we are walking with food.
Got to the lounge to find:
One empty plate...
One big, buttery smear on the floor...
One LBD licking his chops...
Hardly a crumb left.
But then, he's a dog, so the chance that I had to clean up the buttery smear in the end?
Making sense of today
11 hours ago