This morning I offered John Henry the last cinnamon roll for breakfast. I wasn't heartbroken when he said no because that meant I got to eat it. Actually, I was thrilled. I'm hungry and pregnant and that cinnamon roll looked delicious. And it was delicious. Just as I was getting to the best part (the middle where it's nice and soft and all the icing has melted down into it) John Henry decided he wanted the cinnamon role. I won't lie. I actually sat there and thought about saying, "Sorry Charlie. You had your chance". However, seeing as how he was a little sick, and hadn't had much to eat in 24 hours, I felt that I should give it to him. So I gave John Henry the very best part of the cinnamon role. It was a painful experience (for me) and if I didn't love him with all my heart I wouldn't have shared. I'm pretty sure that's what they call true love.
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