“This toast is too buttery, Mama!” she scolded.[Too buttery? Is there such a thing?]
“I’m very sorry, Roo.” I responded.
“Next time you should use just a little less butter!” she said, instructively.
She eyed me in a suspicious way, considering our exchange and then jumped down out of her chair, walked over to mine and beckoned for me to lean towards her.
When I was close enough, she whispered in my ear.
“I still love you,” she said.