“Aw come on Jay. It took me over an hour to collate these papers and now you’ve got butterscotch spread all over them and the carpet. I can think of better ways to spend my time than cleaning up after you.”
Jay snorted with amusement. “You know, bent over like that you look like you’re mining for butterscotch.”
“I sense impending doom.” Jay’s wife moaned. “You’re diabetic for heavens sake. Your glucose readings will be through the roof.”
“One decent meal with food that tastes good won’t kill me Ada.”
“Well, if it does you’ve had plenty of practice. Every Halloween you mimic a cadaver and scare all the neighbourhood kids away. Then you eat all the candy yourself. Where’s the intelligence in that, I ask you.”
“Well, next year hand out carrot sticks then.” Jay groused.