When we order Chinese, we order way too much Chinese. Because that's what Americans do. Plus, leftovers.
So when we prepare the next-day plates, it's a race to see who can fill their plate and get to the microwave first. This time, I won by juking around the Dude and startling him into stillness.
A couple of minutes later, we realized I hadn't actually set the microwave to do anything other than sit there smugly with my plate of cold food. The Dude reached it before me. And took my plate out to reheat his.
On an entirely unrelated note: this weekend I'm going to a prom-themed party. Cute 60's style copper taffeta or terrible velvet long, puffy-sleeved bodice anchored by twelve layers of hot pink floral taffeta and the biggest rosette ever created? Vote!