I had just pulled a tray of biscuits from the oven. Like always, I try to handle them while they’re still hot, consistently shaking the burn off my fingers as I halve them so I can spread butter or jam on them while still warm.
As I split one, I fumbled the bottom half and watched helplessly as it fell to the floor. While bending down to pick it up and place it back on the plate, I told myself, “You can’t eat that. It was on the floor.” Immediately, I responded, “If I don’t eat it, then I’ll just be implying that my floors aren’t clean.”
Of course, I always have a good comeback that I can’t argue with.