On our way into the store Billie and I smelled bacon. We figured out it was coming from the little breakfast place across the street. We begged Doug to let us go there after we finished shopping.
He said no.
“But bacon!” we protested.
He still said no.
“Pleaseeeee!” we pleaded.
Still no.
So, in retaliation, we have spent the last 40 minutes in this grocery store speaking to him using only one word: “bacon.”