My husband made fudge last night. He does the usual yummy-marshmallow-cremey type thing, but he adds his own touch. He shells and crushes a bunch of hazelnuts, and then throws in toffee bits. Then he encourages me to enjoy it and tells me no, of course I don't look fat, and I should just stop worrying about that.
If we weren't already married, I'd ask him to spend the rest of his life with me.
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