“Oh ... My twitchy witchy girl I think you are so nice, I give you bowls of porridge And I give you bowls of ice-cream.”

“Oh- my twitchy witchy girlI think you are so nice,I give you bowls of porridgeAnd I give you bowls of iceCream.I give you lots of kisses,And I give lots of hugs,But I never give you sandwichesWith bugsIn.”

“I have qualms and wonder what a qualm would look like if you painted it -- probably like a bowl of melting ice cream or a dish of Jell-o just before it sets.”

“When I came here two nights ago, I swore to myself that I'd reduce you to a purring kitten, lapping creams from a bowl at my feet.”

“I'm so glad you're okay.""So, how do we celebrate my okayness? It's my day off. Let's go crazy. Glow-in-the-dark bowling?""No""I'll let you use the kiddie ball.""Shut up. I do NOT need the kiddie ball.""The way you bowl, I think you might."He grabbed her in an exaggerated formal dance pose and whirled her around, backpack and all, which didn't make her any more graceful. "Ballroom dancing?""Are you INSANE?""Hey, girls who tango are hot.""You think I'm not hot because I don't tango?"He dropped the act. Shane was a smart boy. "I think you are too hot for ballroom or bowling. So you tell me. What do you want to do? And don't say study.”

“What?"Her breathing stuttered at the thought of tasting the sweet cream off his skin. "Nothing.""No, tell me." He stepped closer.She shook her head. "Why mint and peach?"He quirked a crooked smile. "Mint for fresh breath, peach because it's breakfast. You know, fruit.""I don't think peach ice cream counts as fruit.""What's that right there?" He pointed to the hunks of frozen orange buried in the mounds of ice cream overflowing his bowl."Peach, but--""Nuh uh. No but. It's peach. Case closed." He lifted the bowl and took a big bite.”