He smiled, thinking she was even prettied when she blushed, though then he caught the tail end of what she was saying (okay, he'd been staring, that was rude) and nodded. "Well, that's probably right. What I do remember is not a lot of women, and those nurses were pretty distant. I didn't blame 'em, of course, but yeah, coming home and seeing a warm smile on a pretty girl like you? I'll bet a few of them fell head over heels."
He was glad to hear she wanted some tea, pouring them both a glass before ducking his head and nodding a little. "I guess so... " He was about to joke that maybe it was why any mother had a son, but - suddenly that seemed in poor taste. So instead, he went with, "I'm just a human giraffe, maybe I should market myself to the hospital that way, you think?" Of course, when she said he could pull out the roast, he nodded, searching out the towels to wrap around his hands and pulling open the oven door, nearly starting to drool simply at the aroma that wafted out before he could even reach in. "Oh... this smells so good." He moved to set the hot pan on the stovetop and close the oven, standing over it and trying not to let his excitement be too obvious. His mother had cooked him a good meal the first night he was back, and he'd acted the same way. Fresh meat just smelled so good - and it brought back memories, somehow, though they were still dim and faint. Memories of family dinners, of nights out... nothing concrete, nothing clear, but he realized after a minute that he'd been staring with his eyes unfocused and he covered it by asking, "Where do you keep the plates?" He could get those down, too - and pull out some silverware if she told him where to go. It was probably rude to tear her kitchen apart looking for them, after all.
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He was glad to hear she wanted some tea, pouring them both a glass before ducking his head and nodding a little. "I guess so... " He was about to joke that maybe it was why any mother had a son, but - suddenly that seemed in poor taste. So instead, he went with, "I'm just a human giraffe, maybe I should market myself to the hospital that way, you think?" Of course, when she said he could pull out the roast, he nodded, searching out the towels to wrap around his hands and pulling open the oven door, nearly starting to drool simply at the aroma that wafted out before he could even reach in. "Oh... this smells so good." He moved to set the hot pan on the stovetop and close the oven, standing over it and trying not to let his excitement be too obvious. His mother had cooked him a good meal the first night he was back, and he'd acted the same way. Fresh meat just smelled so good - and it brought back memories, somehow, though they were still dim and faint. Memories of family dinners, of nights out... nothing concrete, nothing clear, but he realized after a minute that he'd been staring with his eyes unfocused and he covered it by asking, "Where do you keep the plates?" He could get those down, too - and pull out some silverware if she told him where to go. It was probably rude to tear her kitchen apart looking for them, after all.