I am stirring. Stirring some imaginary risotto, maybe. Or a sauce (like veloute. I like to say, veh-loo-tay).Ok, Mama. I've pretended not to notice the fact that you've been AWOL for the last couple of days, but my patience is at an end. Where have you been? What are you doing? Why aren't you where you belong (ie, at home, pining for me and thinking of new ways to serve me?) Explain yourself, please.
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