“It’s like a meatloaf.”

“I’m a fan of Meatloaf. He has a voice like it’s covered in thick gravy. There’s nothing better to make love to, with the possible exception of grandma’s casserole.”

“We even talked like Hemingway characters, though in travesty, as if to deny our discipleship: That is your bed, and it is a good bed, and you must make it and you must make it well. Or: Today is the day of the meatloaf. The meatloaf is swell. It is swell but when it is gone the not-having meatloaf will be tragic and the meatloaf man will not come anymore.”

“I don’t understand people who don’t like meatloaf. Your mom doesn’t make it like Michael Aday does.”

“Maybe he's just... craving the meatloaf?"Dani hops off the counter and gives me the once over. "Craving the meatloaf? Is that what the kids are calling it now?”

“We made eyes at each other, and then we made love. We also made other things too, like meatloaf.”