On breaking the house rules again again again

"What did you have for breakfast?" she asks.

"Err... toast," I admit.

"Did you use a spoon?" she demands, in a tone that suggests the offending implement has been found jammed up the dog's bottom.

"Why..." I say, struggling to find the logic, "Why should I use a spoon for toast?"

"I hate seeing butter in the marmalade and marmite in the butter. Use a spoon."

That told me. New house rule.

And so, the next day:

"Where are all the spoons?" she asks.

"In the washing up"

"And why?"

I count off on my fingers: "Butter, margerine, marmite, jam, marmalade, tomato ketchup, brown sauce, barbecue sauce, Chicken Tonight, Ragu."

"Is that all?"

"And the one I found up the dog's bottom."

"You disgust me."