Scorched

“Look! You’ve scorched the milk, Norman.”

“I’m sorry, Harriet my love. I don’t know what’s come over me today.”

“Do you think it’s got something to do with …you know?”

“It might, my love.”

“Oh, Norman. We did have a laugh though.”

“Hehe. Yes, yes we did.”

“Well then. What are we going to do with all this scorched milk?”

“Harriet, my love, why don’t you just pour it in the cat’s bowl? Give him a treat.”

“I s’pose I could, at that. We’ve had ours. Do you have any more of those pills left?”

“Harriet! You’re not thinking about that now, are you?”

“Why not? Let’s go scorch the sheets.”

“All right, then.”

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