The Engineer is an avid culinary experimenter. Sometimes he gets out ahead of me. We were compiling a short grocery list — I had shopped recently, but he wanted a baguette for the evening’s onion soup, and some unsalted butter for baking.
“We’re down to one roll of toilet paper too,” I shouted from the other end of the house.
He ambled through the living room with his notepad, making a memorandum of the third item. Butter, check, French bread, check, bog roll, check.
“Sounds like the world’s worst sandwich,” he said.
I love this guy.