Remember the old Peanuts comics? "Happiness is a warm puppy." While I do enjoy puppies (much more that actual adult DOGS, thank you), I must insist that, in my house, happiness is generally an armful of purr.
Tonight, though, happiness is a bowl of warm chocolate pudding. My brain's chocolate center was speaking rather loudly to me, so I made a nice batch of cooked pudding. There's a bowl in the fridge, getting nice a cold and waiting for Rich to come home. I expect he'll be here around 4am.
If he's lucky, the pudding will still be there. If my chocolate center gets greedy and forces me to eat the other bowl, I will leave no evidence of my indiscretion behind.
Ain't I a stinker?