He put on my apron before starting to chop the veggies.
“You look good in pink,” I complimented him.
“I look good in every color,” he replies.
Chop. Chop. Chop.
Veggies are sauteed and the steak gets dumped into the hot pan.
“The sounds of a thousand screaming souls,” he states, referring to the sizzling steak.
Sizzle. Sizzle. Sizzle.
“Are you writing down everything that I say?”
I sure am. It’s March!