Last night, I hosted dinner.

My friend brought her famous homemade crème brûlée.

And then, through a series of events that remain legally unclear, a spoon bearing close resemblance to the actual spoon shown above, which in purchased on a trip to Scotland, somehow ended up in my hand.

For those who can’t see, it has the following etched into its scoop: I solemnly swear that with this dessert spoon I am up to no good.

Now back to last night, the warning spoon copy at somehow found its way into my hand, and from there, events escalated quickly.

I had some.

Then I had more.

In its defense, the spoon did warn us.

In my defense, the brûlée was GOOD.