Oh, thanks. *altogether chipper, though he's a lot colder now without the jacket between him and the air* I vote for take-out or home cooking, personally—especially since I owe you the latter. *rubs his arms, sounding noticeably eager (is so looking forward to treating you)* What'd you decide on, anyway...?
*spots your kitten bouncing out of wherever she's been hiding* *raises his eyebrows* Whoa, is that Mabel? She's not a mouse anymore! *crouches down and taps the floor* C'mere, girly, let me see how big you are.