It always circles back to nipples.BOSSY: So I’m winning at cooking. Look what I made!
QUITTER: Ummmmmm…is there now a new pandemic definition of the word “winning,” like when Charlie Sheen took it over and society universally accepted it meant “totally fucked up.” Because in that case, yes Bossy you’re “winning” at cooking.
BOSSY: Update: I kept trying. It set on fire.
BOSSY: Would Charlie Sheen approve of this as winning?
QUITTER: What is this? A mushroom?
BOSSY: You don’t grow your mushrooms in an oven? Shame. But it’s a tortilla.
QUITTER: Are you mushroom shaming me? Because if you are, I deserve it, I am woefully behind on my home mushroom cultivation goals. I guess if I squint my eyes enough it kinda has a “tortilla aura,” to it.
BOSSY: I’m shaming you in a “you don’t know what you’re missing” shame. The same sort of shame I pushed on you with the vegan cheese.
QUITTER: Oh Cheebus not the vegan cheese again. There are few things that are sacred to me, but cheese is one of them. You will never see me on your wacky nut cheese. A cashew doesn’t even have nipples!
BOSSY: Oh no. We’re back to the nipple argument.
QUITTER: Doesn’t it always though? Lean in, Bossy, embrace the nipple.
BOSSY: Sounds logistically hard…but…fine.