she hates melted cheese, but wants pizza.
I remember fighting with my sisters over who would make what breakfast item, when my mother finally had it and yelled "You make the grits and I'll cut the cheese!"
Imagine my surprise this morning on the train, when I reached into my purse and found a block of cheese.
When I asked for American cheese on my sandwich at a Subway in Vancouver, the girl replied, "Um, this is CANADA, we have SWISS cheese here."
He gently suggested that perhaps I consider broadening my cheese horizons and I almost burst into tears.
Was the five minutes you spent waiting to put the gum in my hair worth the twenty seconds I'll spend coating your locker in aerosol cheese?