Aaaaaaah Sundays

I am doing my usual morning check of emails and Carlos, who is feeling better, by the way, since he's been resting as per Dr. Bob's orders, is feeding the Pocket Dog.

Then he ambles back down to the office and asks what I'd like for breakfast--one of the rules around our house is that Carlos fixes breakfast; I tend to do nearly all the dinner cooking.

Another rule of the house, for example, is that I take care of what goes into the cats and he takes care of what comes out of the cats. It works for us.

So, he sits down in a chair behind me and asks what I want for breakfast.

Pancakes?

You want pancakes?

Do you want pancakes?

I can make pancakes.

But do you want pancakes?

I can make pancakes.

But do you want pancakes?

I can make pancakes.

But do you want pancakes?

I can make pancakes.

But do you want pancakes?

I can make pancakes.

Lather Rinse Repeat.

This goes on for what feels like an hour. It goes on so long I'm thinking about what I'll have for lunch.