He leans toward her a bit, over where she's got his hand in hers. 'I like sticky jam.'

Not on dishes, obviously, because he doesn't like congealed sticky jam, but in general, yes, he does, and also there is a generic challenge-slash-oh-baby thing to be had there.

Well he's not melting them on purpose. They're supposed to be made to comply with Myaeriae Health and Safety standards, and it's not his fault the only ones here only comply with the Earth's odd system of making the individual manufacturers their own gauges of quality.