Have you dared to eat my son?" I laughed. Actually, it started out as more of a giggle that grew. Because my mind went straight to the gutter.

Hey, if you're going to price yourself, I say go high.

Do you even know what hammerd means?" I asked. "Something to do with drinking your American beer out of a hole in the side of a can?" Dave reached over and slapped him on the shin. "Close enough.

Apparently you don't have to observe the Rules of Etiquette when reuniting with a muderous spouse.

He stepped colser. Looked deep into my eyes. Hesitated a millisecond, and then dove in. "I think I'm falling in love with you." Oh. No. "Cole--" "I know how you feel. About me. About him. I just wanted you to know-we could be good together. We could have a life. Kids. Vacations. On Sunday mornings I could serve you breakfast in bed." He gave me his I-know-you-find-me-irrestible grin. "And then I could make you something to eat.

The white-haired wonder leading what had to, by now, be a blocks-long parade must've finally turned on her hearing aid. Because she finally pulled into the United Methodist Church parking lot, praise God, leaving the rest of us free to party until some other octogenarian found it necessary to take to the streets after dark. In Ohio, old folks know better than to drive at night. Yet another reason Cleveland rocks.

Cassandra,” he said, “I hope you know that poaching Muppets is illegal in this country.