As I was lying in bed earlier today, devouring my third easter chocolate bar, I said to Honey, "If it doesn't rain, I will ride my bike to class tomorrow." Honey made a face, and I --my mouth filled with chocolate, teeth brown and all-- said to him, "I need to have some kind of movement, Honey, some kind of exercise. I feel like a cow!" He stopped what he was doing. I believe the world stopped spinning for a split second. As he was about to make some mean, evil comment about the fact that I am, in fact , a cow, I yelled at him to stop - to shut up. In the midst of my screaming I even spit a little chocolate onto his back. "Don't you dare say a word," I shrieked, "don't you dare agree with me that I am a cow. Choose your words wisely, Honey, because the wedding can still be cancelled." He looked at me with the loveliest puppy-dog eyes, the ones he uses when he knows he messed up. He looked at me with those eyes and said, "I ...