I've mentioned a few times before that my wife Charli owns a successful scrapbooking retreat business.
One of the perks of coming to her place is that she serves you decadent deserts after your meals. The other day, after her guests had finished their lunch on our deck outside in the beautiful sunshine, she promptly served them gooey fudge brownies drizzled in warm caramel.
A short while after they were done eating and back inside at their tables, I came home from whatever it was I was doing, and noticed the plate of leftover brownies sitting on our kitchen counter. Not being one to pass up a chance to sneak a treat, I quickly snapped up a small square and popped it in my mouth. It was freakin delicious.
No sooner had I swallowed my last chew when Charli comes walking in the back door, takes one look at the plate, looks at me and says, "Uh, you didn't eat one of those did you?"
me: "Uh, yeah. Why?"
C: "So you actually put it in your mouth?"
C: "And you swallowed it and everything?"
me: "Yes, yes - I ate it and swallowed it and everything. Why, what's the problem?"
C: "Oh. Well, maybe it would be better if I just didn't tell you."
me: "Are you serious? What, did they fall on the floor? Big deal, that won't kill me."
me: "Oh for Pete's sake, just tell me. I'm not that squeamish."
C: "Well, after everyone was gone, the brownies sat there on the table outside in the sun. By the time I was able to get to them, the flies had gotten themselves stuck in the gooey caramel and I had to flick them off with a fork before I could bring the plate into the house."
C: "So anyway, maybe next time you should ask before you steal something you're not supposed to be eating in the first place."