Yesterday evening, my husband and I spent FOUR freakin' hours at the Philadelphia airport, utterly stranded. Our flight kept getting delayed and delayed and delayed and...well, you get the picture.
As we roamed listlessly through the long gray hallways, I suddenly had the urge to eat something scrumptious. The following conversation ensued:
Me: Mmmm, you know what I'm craving right now?
Me: A caramel apple!
Me: Doesn't that sound so good? Yum.
Justin: That's kind of a weird request. Did I impregnate you or something?
Sheesh, can't a girl crave a caramel apple without accusations of pregnancy?!