Preparing the groundwork. My age is 22, and his is 32.
It's 8:00 on a chilly, overcast morning. He rises, bathes, and begins making breakfast. After a short nap, I get out of bed and make the bed before heading to the bathroom for a pre-bedtime shower.
Enter the living room; he'll be lounging there with a slice of bread and a jar of honey, asking, "Will that be enough for you?"
There was an exclamation of surprise: "Oh, that's my third one"
How about some milk?
I say, "Oh no, I forgot," and then I go and heat up some milk for him (I can't eat or drink for the first three hours after waking up).
Give him a glass of milk; he's content in his sweater and Super Mario thermal socks. He flicks on the TV and exclaims, "Oh, look, looney tunes!" He is so pleased with what is on TV that he sits back, wiggles his toes, and drinks milk that is too hot to consume at the moment while watching looney tunes.
It's the hundredth time I've seen this happen, so I just relax and crochet in peace.