After dinner, Hubs gets bored with the conversation and starts poking at a Maraschino cherry with his drinking straw. After numerous unsuccessful attempts to puncture it, Mom turns to me and says, "I'm glad he wasn't your first."
Me: You're defrosting two pounds of chicken?
Hubs: Yes.
Me: There are only two of you eating.
Hubs: I'm making chicken tenders, too.
Me: Again, for two people?
Hubs: It's the Final F***ing Four.