“She had two blueberries for eyes, and hair the color of strawberries. Too bad our love never made it past the kitchen and into the bedroom (or garage).”

“I wash my hair with strawberry jelly, because my favorite thing to eat for breakfast is lunch. It’s never too late to love someone, but sometimes it is too early.”

“Women are like convertibles: They should be topless. Also, they should stay in the garage. I mean kitchen. No, I mean bedroom. Damnit, I guess they can roam freely about the house.”

“She gave me her bedroom eyes. I know because we were in the kitchen at the time. I hope we’re having pigs in a blanket. Yum!”

“She had two lips like strawberries, and the seeds gave her kisses texture. I preferred kissing her over two scoops of vanilla ice cream.”

“She had amber-colored eyes. Or maybe they were blue, and I was confusing their color with her name, which was Amber.”

“Growing up, my bedroom was like a garage, only much smaller and with more lawnmowers in it (we had to store them there because the garage was crowded with the 14-person dining room table—despite there being only four of us in the house). I’m just thankful my parents didn’t park their cars in the living room.”