Romantic evening out at the new restaurant on the green

Before the soup comes I wanted to tell you a few things:

I love you when you assimilate the visitors into the kitchen area with a shocked look, and then we all smell the steam.
I like it when we are in the cabinet office and we all sing the song about the bottle and the crybaby

I love you when you tell me my ideas in the brainstorming meeting were powereful but probably overkill considering the timescales we are working to and the position we are in on the roadmap.

I am exhausted when you wake me up and tell me again the story of the boy in the cupboard - it fell on him, the cupboard, when his father was trying to turn it into a rabbit run. As the father screamed, the boy dropped and curled into the grass and the cupboard fell around him, safely cavity-ing him within itself. Everyone was in mourning, even though no part of it touched his body. Remember, you reminded me, and all we could say was that he might have died. Oh he might have died, stupid father. I love you when I am snoring and you softly open a letter that was sent to you a long time ago.