“I’m thinking I would like to eat that sausage,” I said. As soon as my own words penetrated, my mouth dropped open, and I began trying to explain. Mistake. Big mistake. “Not your sausage,” I clarified. “The casserole sausage.” Bear’s eyebrows shot up, and I realized that might have sounded offensive. “I mean, your sausage also. I definitely want to taste that again. Nothing wrong with that sausage. But that’s not the sausage I meant.” His eyebrows got even higher. Did he still have enough forehead real estate for that?
