(*Barely. It was 11 a.m.)
Pete to Jen, “I’m making eggs. You want one?”
Jen, “Sure.”
Pete, “Do you want ciabatta toast?”
Jen, “Yes.”
Pete, “With cheese?”
Jen, “Absolutely.”
Pete,”You’re rather amenable this morning.”
Jen, “No, you’re speaking my love language.”
;D it makes life easier when you’re a foodie…easier…unless it comes to the scale and I should know ‘cuz I’m a HUGE foodie - in more weighs than one ;D
Ah, the language of breakfast. All we have to say here is, “Bacon?” and everyone perks up, including the cat.
It’s rather embarrassing the number of eggs my family consumes for weekend breakfasts… It’s my #1 reason for wanting chickens. Because good lord! The price of (good, organic, cage free, humane certified) eggs lately? The hubby still refuses.
Oh yeah, that’s my love language, too!
I’m very spoiled: my husband makes breakfast for the 2 of us nearly every day. It’s definitely a love language!
My love language:
1. “I cleaned the slime out of the dehumidifier”
2. “I cleaned the hair out of the shower drain”
3. “I changed the kitty litter”
I would rather have any of those than get flowers.