A Pinch Too Much
Harold was a man who believed that if something tasted good, it would taste even better with more seasoning. Every morning, he sat at the kitchen table with his plate of colorful vegetables and his trusty salt shaker in hand.
His wife, Mabel, watched with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. She had been married to Harold long enough to know that her gentle warnings about “too much salt” rarely made a difference.
“Harold,” she said with a raised eyebrow, “are you eating dinner or preserving it for the winter?”
He chuckled, sprinkling yet another generous shake over his plate. “It’s called adding flavor, dear. You can’t rush art.”
Mabel crossed her arms, trying to hide a smile. She knew he wasn’t just seasoning his food—he was adding a dash of stubbornness and a sprinkle of personality that made life with him unpredictable and entertaining.
As Harold took his first bite, he winked. “Perfect, as always.”
Mabel shook her head but couldn’t help laughing. In their kitchen, the recipe for happiness always called for love, laughter, and—thanks to Harold—a little too much salt.
