“Every Sunday, my husband gets up and cooks breakfast — hashbrowns and eggs,” wrote a reader who asked that I not use her name. “Every Sunday I sleep in, get up, eat said breakfast, and mop the kitchen floor, which every Sunday has a mysterious, slimy spot on it.
“This Sunday I woke up in time to see him peeling the potatoes, and the dogs trying to catch the peels before they hit the floor. A few times they succeeded. Mystery solved.”