We've developed a pattern (ritual? rite?) of a late breakfast of an early Sunday afternoon at one of the several Lattéland locations in Kansas City. The one we frequent is in the Country Club Plaza.
Coffee, breakfast fare (scones, muffins, and/or bread - banana, pumpkin this time of year, other sorts.)
We sat in the sunshine, an oasis of quiet amid the bustle of espresso drinks being ordered and prepared.
Him: Chocolate chip scone?
Me: Mmm-hmm (mouth full of chocolate chips.)
Him: And that? What is it? (pointing at the other food item on my plate)
Him: I know it's bread. What kind?
Me: ...considering the bread on my plate... Bread, with some kind of green bits in it.
Him: Nuts? Those look like small pieces of nut.
Me: Those yes. But I'm looking at the green bits in my bread.
Him: There's nuts, but I'm not sure what those others are.
Me: I'm sort of focused on the fact that I'm eating bread that has green bits in it.
Him: You make eating a difficult prospect for yourself sometimes.