Me: I think I’ll take a little break. Cook something. I’m starving.
Him: Excuse me. You’re not done here today.
Me: Tomorrow
Him: Wus. 
Me: Sadist.
Him: Then make me a beef Wellington. I also will have a Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon to go with it.
Me: That’s almost $6500 a bottle. You’re a carpenter—
Him: With gourmet tastes.
Me: Clearly. You cannot go into debt for wine. And I’m in the mood for pasta.
Him: It takes nothing to boil water. It can wait. So, in this new book of yours, I’m pouring the Screaming Eagle and I ask if she screams, too.
Me: In ecstasy, right? Not for other reasons?
Him: What do you take me for? Hannibal Lecter? He prefers Chianti anyway.
Me: You know him? No, don’t answer that. You are a God fearing, animal rescuer who makes beautiful things with his hands.
Him: Especially makes women scream in ecstasy.
Me: Tell me more.
Him: Thought you were hungry?
Me: There are many types of hungry. << puts hands back on keyboard>> I’m listening.
Him: You are so easy.
Me: If you want that cabernet you better deliver, buster.
Him: Then, we shall begin. So, there’s only one bed…