morning, at work
me: I have a surprise for you, but you don't get to know what it is until tonight.
him: Thirty million dollars. Thank god. I can quit working.
me: Well, not quite, but I think you'll love it just as much.
him: Is it food related? A delicious meal?
him: Well I do love a delicious meal.
afternoon, still at work
him: This day just won't end. Swear to god.
me: But it almost is and then surprise.
him: Please do not let the surprise be cream cheese and cauliflower casserole.
me: It is not.
him: Then we should be good.
evening, before dinner
him: Tacos? Real tacos with meat...
me: Shredded beef with jalapeños and lime juice.
him: ...and taco shells and cheese and...
me: Lettuce and tomato. Yes. We just need guacamole.
him: When did you decide to make this?
me: Last night.
him: Was it because I wouldn't stop talking about tacos last night?
me: Yes. Do you love it?
him: I do. I love tacos. We should do this regularly. We should have, like, a taco night or something.
me: People do that. We can do that.
him: Let's do that.
evening, during dinner
me: Buck thinks it isn't fair that we're eating the food of his people and not sharing any with him.
him: Actually, Buck, I think the food of your people is field mice.
*probably because we've become completely domestic and really only talk about work, food, how annoying people are and MacGyver.