Boyfriend: "What thing?"
Me: "The thing in the bowl that kind of looks like petrified wood covered in human skin."
Boyfriend: "Oh, I accidentally left my oatmeal in the microwave for 20 minutes."
Me: "And the microwave was going the whole time?"
Boyfriend: "Yeah. I meant to set it for three minutes and thirty seconds, but I must have hit an extra zero. I took it out before it caught on fire, though."
Me: "You waited twenty minutes without thinking 'this is way longer than three minutes'"?
Boyfriend: "I just thought that I must have missed the beep and then I was like "meh, I'll get it later.'"
Me: "I guess that's understandable. Did you get breakfast?"
Boyfriend: "Yeah, I had a tortilla."
Sometimes I feel like Boyfriend and I are retarded cavemen. All of our friends are going about their lives as normal, well-adjusted adults who cook their meals and live in clean, well-decorated houses, while Boyfriend and I are sitting on the floor eating beans out of a can with spoons we made out of tinfoil because we can't find any of our real spoons.