"Bread for breakfast or air, cherie?" Bossuet calls back over his shoulder.
"Only if you promise you'll wash your hands first. Or, better yet, use tongs and a knife and don't touch it. You always get things on bread that make me ill."
"Suppose I kiss it all over first?"
"Bossuet!"
"Don't worry." He smiles to himself as he tears off a piece of bread with his (washed) hands. "If there are things on the bread that make a fellow ill, I'm going to be the one who suffers them."
no subject
"Bread for breakfast or air, cherie?" Bossuet calls back over his shoulder.
"Only if you promise you'll wash your hands first. Or, better yet, use tongs and a knife and don't touch it. You always get things on bread that make me ill."
"Suppose I kiss it all over first?"
"Bossuet!"
"Don't worry." He smiles to himself as he tears off a piece of bread with his (washed) hands. "If there are things on the bread that make a fellow ill, I'm going to be the one who suffers them."