#breakfast gone wrong

“This is a Japanese doll.” “I’m not going to disagree with you, angel.” “Steve.” He looked at her, the picture of innocence, and she could see the smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “Do you really want me to ask?” She was irritated about how she was already late for work and would have to go to a coffee shop for breakfast, which would make her even later, but this was quickly overshadowed by equal parts confusion and curiosity. (Confusion and curiosity were common emotions when it came to living with Steve. She enjoyed cohabiting with him for, if nothing else, the entertainment value. He had never once ceased to surprise her in the 100 years they had spent together.) “We were out of eggs,” he said, “and so I went to the store to get some but it’s a pretty damn useless store, because it didn’t have eggs but it did have this.” He waved a hand at the doll, proudly sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. The story almost seemed logical. “She has no nose,” Diana noted, and it was that final statement that caused Steve to burst out absolutely howling with laughter, which naturally made Diana start laughing, which culminated in them both grabbing onto the edge of the kitchen table to stay upright and sending the doll falling flat on her face, setting off another raucous chorus of laughter. “Perhaps,” Diana said eventually, “I should assume the responsibility of breakfast more often.” “It’s fine, it’s fine,” Steve said, waving her off. “Grab your coat, let’s go get croissants.” “I’ll be late for work, Steve,” she protested. “Me too,” he said, and pulled her in for a kiss right before they went out the door into the streets of Paris.