". . . And then you could decorate your second bedroom, hereby called the nursery, all in pink." -- Heather

Last night The Husband and I were feeling a little peckish. After perusing our inventory of foodstuffs, we bemoaned the fact that we didn't have anything delicious to eat. We debated going out for fast food, but nixed that idea because we had to "save our dollars" and, more importantly, because that would require venturing out into single-digit weather.

We rummaged through the cupboards again. I ate a sugar cone (without any ice cream) that we had purchased for the Olympics. You know, the ones that happened a year ago. The Husband ate some cereal.

We were still hungry.

I suggested making some popcorn. We had, after all, four bags that I had been stashing away ever since before we got married.

It turns out that neither The Husband nor I have the knack of popping corn. We burned not one, but two bags.

We gave up and went to bed.

And the worst part about knowing that we will never be World Famous Popcorn Chefs? Our apartment still reeks.