Guinea pig down

Last night Hero ate a zucchini fry as I was taking them off the baking sheet - it flipped off onto the floor and he'd swallowed it before I even knew what had happened. Hubs, who had been looking dubiously at the zucchini fries since they'd come out of the oven, watched him for a second, then said, "Is that okay?"

I sighed, tired from a day alone with the puppy. "I'm sure it's fine."

A second later, Hero threw up the zucchini fry. Hubs looked at me with an eyebrow raised. "And he's got a stomach of steal. Does that mean we don't have to eat them now?"

Wordlessly, I carried our plates the table and set them down with a little more ooomph than was probably necessary. Hubs, wise beyond his years, took his place, picked up his fork, and said, "Mmmmm! Looks great! So, uh, creative. With the vegetable." We both ignored the sound of Hero continuing to gag in the background.

Hubs continued, "I mean, zucchini is hard to dress up. But this, this looks, you know, not at all like zucchini normally looks..."

I slowly raised one hand, the international sign for silence. "Just please call for a pizza while I clean up after the dog."

You can't always be on your A game. You just really can't.