My elf

I noticed that our bag of flour was nearly empty as I made pancakes yesterday morning.

“I guess I’m not going to be able to make cookies like I had planned,” I said to Greg.

“No, there’s more flour,” Greg said urgently. Actually, he was more than urgent. He had a tone of pleading desperation as if I’d told him the world had just run out of chocolate. “And I bought more sugar, too. We have more of everything,” he said brightly.

This is the same man who forgets to buy things even when he’s holding the grocery list right in front of him. But the things not on the list, like say, sugar and butter (and, ahem, ice cream), he always remembers those.