We watched Season 5 of Somebody Feed Phil in two tranches. Some episodes were better than others, as expected. And some scenes I just can't forget. Curiously, the most memorable scene has nothing to do with my favorite food in the entire season.

Episode 2 is about Maine. Phil was served four kinds of lobster rolls and, as he went about devouring each, he had an accident. The sauce dripped on his pants. And he called it a crime scene.

Alex and I laughed out loud. We use that term at home too. Not for food spilled on clothing but crumbs, sauce and grease left by her father on the tabletop. He's the only one that consistently leaves that much evidence of a meal that had been viciously attacked and thoroughly demolished.

When we eat, we have our permanent spots on the dinner table. Nothing to do with the bullshit tradition that the seat at the head of the table properly belongs to the father and master of the house. Nope. Everyone seats where he or she feels most comfortable.

Where Speedy sits now and has sat for the past so many months used to be my seat. But he asked to swap places because he didn't want a full view of the window. The glare always gives him a headache.

So, we switched spots. And his spot has to be wiped clean twice after every meal. Just the tabletop. Not the chair; not the floor. Just the tabletop.

I'm so glad that we elected to have a granite tabletop when we bought new furniture after we had a house renovation in 2019. Wipe with damp (occasionally, soapy too) cloth and the crime scene is erased.

All that, I pondered over a cup of coffee. What about you? What were your thoughts when you had your first cup of coffee today?