"It's fine to eat later," Noah said, taking the towel from her. "I get to see what you have for Sunday breakfast now, and later you can see what I have. There's no loss--we both turn out winners."
He'd just as soon get the worst part over with first, and then he could enjoy the waiting breakfast. Noah dipped a bit of the towel into the bowel, squeezed it out a little, and then began patting over his cuts. He bit the end of his tongue, because it smarted. But still, he knew that it would be worthwhile; the cuts would heal more quickly and leave fewer marks. As a home remedy, it actually worked, and well. He glanced up at her and smiled. "Thanks for preparing this. Though you'll have to put up with me smelling like a walking garlic clove. Not so nice right now but it should fade."
He nodded toward the platter with what looked like pancakes. "What are those called?"