The shorter project manager and I were just hovering over the enormous fruit tart that my boss brought in for someone's birthday. "You can have this, right?" he asked. I inspected the label and sighed.
"Butter," I read aloud.
"Shit," he muttered.
"Eggs."
"Shit."
"Skim milk."
"Shit."
"Whey."
"Shit."
I shook a reproving finger at him. "Don't say that in the office," I said.
"Oh," he said, looking startled. "Shit."