I was visiting Bezley today when she suggested we order something for lunch from an Italian cafe near her. After perusing the menu she settled on ravioli and me on pizza. Bezley rang them to place the order. She told them what we wanted and then, after listening a moment to the person on the phone, she turned to me rather hopefully and asked, "Do we want any dessert?"
"No, we do not!"
"Oh. I've been told that we don't."
After a few minutes I whizzed us down to the shops to pick the food up. Bezley seemed gone a fair while and when she got back in the car she had the pizza box and two placky bags with her. I poked in one bag, which contained the ravioli.
"What's in the other one?"
Bezley looked rather shamefaced. "Tiramisu," she confessed.
She tried to make me share some with her but I told her she had to eat every last skerrick herself.
As she enthusiastically took up spoonful after spoonful it didn't look like much of a punishment.