I married the cook that made the best biscuits-n-gravy I have ever had.
I'd be lying if I said that my wife's ability to make spectacular sausage gravy wasn't a contributing factor in my decision to ask her to marry me.
Lunch today was her equally spectacular egg casserole, covered with sausage gravy.
I know, she's trying to kill me. But I don't care.
Thanks, I'm dying here and haven't eaten yet. Does she have a sister?