The butter was soft in its little covered dish, and was exactly what Fritz wanted.
It was smooth, rich butter, purchased from the grocery store for the express purpose of spreading on toast. He left it out of the fridge to be warm, spreadable, smooth and delicious and warm.
It was difficult to spread it on toast when Fritz had no toast. But he never let that stop him, and today, as he frowned at the fridge, or rather its lack of bread, he considered. A trip to the store for a loaf, or some alternative? It was cold outside, and raining, and it was early, and Fritz hadn’t had his coffee.
With no other option, Fritz sat at the table with a spoon, and started scooping the butter directly into his mouth. Needs must, he thought, smiling as it slid down his throat.