He meant well

We were having such a chick-flick movie moment…

I was in the laundry room, folding the last bit of our week’s clothes so I’d be READY to tackle my week. Organized. In control. Relishing a peaceful evening with Mr. Right.
My wonderful husband was in the kitchen, making me comfort food (beef stew and cheesy cornbread because I’m sick… again). He walked into the laundry room, with a spoonful of stewy goodness, and sweetly offered me a taste.
He fed me the heaping spoonful…
And just then I realized that the soup was SCALDING HOT. Probably the same temperature as the surface of the sun. It was so hot I had to spit it out, and the rest of the spoonful dripped down my face and all over the laundry room floor.
After the burning stopped and Mr. Right knew the burns were only minor, we laughed. And laughed. Not exactly the way it happens in the movies.

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