Here's some further proof of my immaturity. Kerry is currently making our shopping list, and she asked if I have any special requests for food this week. My response: "Boar's Head Bacon and Reese's Pieces." Diabetes City, Population: FranT.
My immature shopping request reminds me of last weekend, when I was at a bachelor party hanging with the skells of Atlantic City. My best man Chris and I went back to our room at around midnight and ordered room service and some inappropriate Pay-Per-View. Our buddy Ken said it was like watching two kids whose parents left them alone in a hotel room for the very first time. (Unfortunately -- or fortunately, depending on how you look at it -- all video and photographic evidence has been destroyed.) Considering my grocery order, I guess Ken's assessment of my behavior seems pretty accurate.