Thank you, dear,for reminding me,
when I commented on the peaches on the table,
that it was you who’d stained the table
– sorry, counter, I misspoke. Counter.
You selected the material
you bought the material
you cleared me out of the kitchen
and smelled up the kitchen with the spray-staining apparatus,
so you’re right:

far be it from me to insensitively complain when I,
who thoughtlessly exploded a peach upon your counter
have to spend a moment or two cleaning it up
after you went to such effort
to make our home so fine and beauteous…
it is appalling what I’ve done, really.
Simply appalling.

Really, beloved, you must forgive me.

Eventually.