Oh . . . my. Sir Guy & Ladywriter discover edible nirvana. Mary Poppins was right!

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untitledLadywriter made a sour face. “This prednisone leaves one nasty, bitter taste in my mouth . . .”

He cocked his dark head and raised an inquisitive brow. “Well, then–why don’t you open up some of your new goodies you purchased yesterday? Perhaps–” Sir Guy gestured with those elegant hands of his. “Is it not said something sweet improves the digestion of these potions?”

 

Ladywriter slowly nodded after sipping more water. Yuck! The aftertaste persisted.

She’d been diagnosed with a damaged ulnar nerve in her left wrist–her dominant wrist–and was now dealing with a big honkin’ wrist stabilizer worn day and night and the side effects of steroids (unusually rosy cheeks, feeling even more roly-poly than normal–and the nasty taste of the tablets). Hey, if it was good enough for Mary Poppins and her charges . . .

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“Yep. I agree. Time to sample the new JIF–salted caramel hazelnut spread,” she said. The tip of Sir Guy’s pink tongue involuntarily peeked out and licked his lip, his azure eyes brightening at her words.

 

LW shot him a sidelong glance. “Erhmmm . . . I don’t suppose you want to try any, too? After all, you did have a substantial breakfast of waffles with syrup and a large side order of bacon, Sir Guy . . .”

He raised both brows and attempted to look completely innocent. Being Sir Guy, he failed.  Being Ladywriter, she loved it.

“I think it would only be right for me to try it first, my lady. To make sure it is—satisfactory.”

LW gave her favorite dark knight of a  chocolic an affectionate smirk, followed by a gentle punch on his arm with her good hand. “Liar.”

Chuckling, she playfully spooned out a generous dollop of the dark, rich-looking spread and held it up. “Open wide . . .”

Sir Guy did just that, rolling the sweet substance in his mouth, smacking his lips and then swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

A flash of white teeth and an appreciative husky growl. “Oh, my . . . sweet. And salty. And absolutely delicious . . .”

Fedoralady took her own “spoonful of sugar.” She agreed.

“Sir Guy . . . the bitterness is gone.  It’s like a party for my mouth!”

He chuckled.  “One might even say–it resembles—-ME.”

Happy Guyday Friday!!

 

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About fedoralady

I'm an LA native--Lower Alabama, that is. My husband of more than 30 years and I live here on a portion of my family's former farm with two gorgeous calicos and a handsome GSD mix. My background is art education, and over the years I've been a teacher, department store photographer, sales associate and a journalist. My husband, his business partner and I have Pecan Ridge Productions, a video production company, for which I shoot & edit video and stills and manage marketing. I also still write part-time for the local paper. I love movies, music, art, photography and books, and my tastes in all of them are eclectic.

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