We've been on each other's nerves a little (at least, I've been on hers, as far as I can tell) all day, but we've reached some kind of detente after dinner. After a nice walk down the block, we pick up dessert, and now we're sitting on the stoop in dusk, eating a cream puff with our hands, like God intended.
It's been relatively un-messy so far, but as I'm about to take a bite that threatens to destabilize the entire puff structural integrity, Katie deadpans, "You haven't listened to me all day, about anything, but don't do it."
But of course I do, and it does.
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