I used to have a French bulldog named Lucy. E hated that animal.
Tag Archives | French
“Croque madame,” E suggested over text message. “You eat ham?” I asked. I learn something new about my boyfriend every day. I’m not too fond of white creamy sauces (my thighs expand at the mere sight of them), nor was I looking forward to having to top this cheesy sandwich with a runny egg. But […]