“What’s wrong with taking a limo to the game? That way you can have beer, not worry about parking or the frustration of traffic. It’s a pure win.”

“I should’ve made this a silver spoon,” she said, and took the spoon from him to put it in the sink.

“Just for that I might not give you your present.”

Both intrigued and suspicious, she turned. “What present?” He opened his briefcase, took out a box. “This present. But you may be too much of a smart-ass to deserve it.”

“Smart-asses need presents, too. Why did you get me a present?”

“Because you need it, smart-ass.” He handed it to her. “Open it.”

She admired the Wonder Woman wrapping and big red bow before ruthlessly tearing them off. Then she frowned at the picture on the box. It looked like some sort of handheld computer or oversized recorder. “What is it?”

“A time-saver. Here. I set it up already.” He opened the box, took out the device with a gleam in his eye that told her the gift was something he wanted for himself.

“Instead of writing out lists,” he told her, “you do this. Push Record.” He did so, then said eggs. “See?” He turned it around to show her the word eggs on a little display screen. “Then you push the Select button, and it’s on the list.”

Okay, she thought, he’d caught her interest. “What list?”

“The list you’ll have when you’re finished and push this.” He tapped another button. “It prints it out, and better yet, arranges the items in categories. Like, you know, dairy or condiments, whatever.”

Her serious interest. “Get out. How?”

“I don’t know how. Maybe there’s someone in there arranging. And it has this library feature, so you can add specialized items it wouldn’t have in there already. You use a lot of unusual ingredients.”

“Let me try it.” She took it, pressed Record. “Vanilla beans.” Her lips pursed as she read the display. “It says vanilla pudding.”

“It probably doesn’t have vanilla beans in the library because most people just buy the bottled stuff.”

“True. But I can put it in?”

“Yeah, then it’ll get it next time. And you can put in the quantities. Like three dozen eggs, or however many vanilla beans you’d buy. Are they actual beans?”

“They come in a pod,” she murmured, studying her gift. “You bought me a kitchen recorder lister thing.”

“I did. It’s magnetic, so you can put it up on the side of one of your coolers, or wherever it works for you.”

“Most guys go with flowers.”

She clearly saw the hitch that put in his stride.

“Do you want flowers?”

“No. I want this. A whole bunch. It’s a really great present.” She looked up at him. “It’s a really great present, Del.”