"I see we're throwing caution to the wind again, ay?" A little Canadian lingo there. The husband looked at me with his 'one eyebrow up' look. "I thought you were going to bed."
"You are making a mess. I can't go to sleep knowing there will be pudding splattered everywhere when I wake up. Is that chocolate pudding dripping down between the dishwasher and counter? This is going to be worse than I thought. You're making vanilla too?"
Most people are going to bed at 11:00pm ish and not clanging around in the kitchen but that's when the damn diabetic makes pudding in the wrong bowls.
"So you're making parfaits then? How can you not stir neatly? Why does half of it have to be on the counter? Look at my counter, look at it."
A 10 second stare down began. And we started to speak to each other in hush tones, with our eyes squinted and our teeth clenched, "I'll clean it up, go to bed."
"I can't go to sleep knowing you may go into a diabetic coma. That's something that's needs to be addressed quickly and every one's in bed."
"I'm only having one in this small glass."
"Then you will save one for me for lunch tomorrow?"
"I'm going to bed."