“You’re such a softie,” Kris laughs. “Like a roasted marshmallow.”
“Flaming?” Adam suggests with an arched brow.
“No, soft and gooey under your blackened exterior after you’ve been roasted over a campfire in the woods. Except you don’t camp.”
“Oh honey, I camp. I don’t go camping, but I camp.” ©
Кажется мой дайрь превратился в тумблер.