Pet Names Donald McMann When they were dressing, she told him she was hungry. “Scrambled eggs?” he asked. “No. That’s not it.” She paused. And then, inspired, she said, “Butter toast.” “Buttered toast it is.” “No. Butter toast. Butter toast — it’s a thing. An item. Like butter chicken. Only, toast.”
The next day, he called her at the office. When she couldn’t take the call, he left a message for Butter Toast. And so it went. “Good morning, Butter Toast.” “I’ll be back soon, Butter Toast.” “I do, Butter Toast.” “Merry Christmas, Butter Toast.” “Look at our little boy now, Butter Toast.” “I love my Butter Toast.” Forty-seven years with Butter Toast.
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