A Monday night

Last night I made Steve a sandwich. I brought it to him. He took the plate gratefully. He smiled. He looked at the plate.

For a brief second his disappointment showed.

Steve: Do I have to eat it like a grown up? All in one piece? Can't I have triangles?

For a second my nuturing instinct raised its head and I nearly took the plate back. I then remembered that it wasn't an adorable three year old I was dealing with; it was my 27 year old boyfriend.

Me: No.