. thirty-two ounces ... and so cold the root beer slushed instantly.Ernie arranged the mugs with the handles together so I could carry the four sacks ...n one hand and the four mugs in the other. I made my way through the table maze and set the beer on the table, I peered in each sack and snatched a fry or two from each.“Hey!” “Hey!” exclaimed Seven and Wendy. Annabelle never did say much; she just looked hurt.“Tax and shipping and handling charges,” I explained.They pouted.The drill: The burger. When my Dusty got fat, I could barely find the thing, let alone feel it, that was the last straw. It was bad enough when we could still have sex, but I had to get myself off after he fell asleep, at least then there was some intimacy between us. But the fatter Dusty got, the less he felt like making love, and the less I could feel his lovemaking. This went on for a long time, when I finally made my decision, we hadn’t had sex in almost six months and I hadn’t felt it in over a year. Now before. More

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