04 August 2007

Slow start turned fast.

I cooked up a bunch of horrible (health-wise) things for Steve's birthday, and figured that he'd be a bit slow to wake up. Knowing that I could expect a groggy, tired man in the morning, I got myself a little insurance. I threw in the ingredients for a loaf of bread into my bread machine just before going to sleep. It barely took me a minute or two, tops, and I knew I'd have my easy out when I wake up.

As scheduled, I woke up bright and early. It's strange; because I wake up so early on weekdays, my weekends are rarely all that different. Steve, on the other hand, prefers to laze about on weekends. We have a few million things to get taken of, and I couldn't risk sitting around until the late afternoon, when it gets unbeastly hot, and unbearable outside. So there we were. Steve was still a little slow to start, as expected, when I pulled out the heavy artillery. I casually mentioned, "I don't usually play dirty, but there's a fresh loaf of bread on the counter. Enjoy." He wanted to know what I meant by playing dirty, but I told him that he'd figure it out himself as soon as he woke up properly.

All in all, he had a pretty awesome birthday.

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