Every once in awhile a craving for biscuits comes over me. I mention my craving to Björn (probably subconsciously hoping he will do what he usually does and bake me some).
The conversation has, every time, pretty much gone like this:
ME: Mmmm. I'd really love to have some biscuits like my grandmother used to make.
BJÖRN: You mean scones?
ME: NO!
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