Soufflé


So I’m looking in Samantha’s bag after she gets back from an outing to the zoo.  “Why didn’t you eat your lunch?”

“I didn’t know what kind of sandwiches they were, and I only eat certain sandwiches.”

“Oh really.  They were chocolate.”

“What kind of chocolate?  Peanut butter and chocolate chip, or chocolate spread?”

“Chocolate spread.”

“I don’t eat that kind.  I only eat chocolate spread a certain way.  I only eat that in my chocolate soufflé.  The chocolate only goes on one side of one slice of bread, and then I put that on five crackers.”

“Fine.  Go pull those sandwiches apart, and make them into soufflé, because this is all you’re getting for lunch, but you have to actually eat it.  I keep finding those on plates around the house.”

“Well, that’s because I make them for other people, and they don’t appreciate them.”

She didn’t eat them.  Seth found her plate, and insisted he would die of neglect and starvation if that was not his lunch immediately.

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