He wandered into the kitchen.
She intercepted him. “What do you want?”
He suddenly looked wary and glanced at the clock.
She said, “I suppose you’re wanting lunch?”
He said, “Well, it is about that time. Yes.”
She said, “Well, what would you like? Oh, and we don’t have any bread.”
He points at the cupboard. “I’ll just look for something.”
Because he has the uncanny ability to eat things that are scheduled for recipes, leaving her totally unaware they are gone until inopportune moments, she loudly and passionately interjected, “NO!”
He took a startled step backward.
Again he pointed hesitantly, this time at a jar on the counter. “Then could I maybe have a handful of peanuts?”
She gave him a snack bowl full of peanuts and he dejectedly shuffled away with his starvation rations.
Thirty minutes later she walked into the TV room carrying a plate. The plate contained a bowl of chicken pasta salad, a juicy cluster of grapes, and a napkin wrapped fork. In her left hand she had a tall glass of minty iced tea.
He glanced up, saw the lunch bounty and his eyes brightened with delight.
She said, “Better than a sandwich and well worth waiting for.”
He said, “Thank you. This looks wonderful.”
She said, “It’s not “wonderful”, it’s salad.”
[Kissing scene omitted.]
She said, “So, how does it feel to be loved?”
He said, “Su-uper!”
Her shoulders sagged and she looked at him sadly. She said, “No, honey, I told you, it’s salad. If you wanted soup you should have said so!” She reached to take the plate away from him.
Laughing, he held the food off to the side where she couldn’t reach it. He said, “It’s okay. I’ll eat this. And I absolutely love you.”
She loves him, too, but sometimes he is very confusing.