Last night we were supposed to have BLTs with chicken for dinner. (The husband didn't think a BLT would provide me with enough protein, so I agreed we could have chicken on our sandwiches, too.)
So I start cleaning and seasoning the chicken breasts, and the husband gets out the grill tray and tells me he's going to cook the bacon on the grill.
I don't think anything of this; I don't stop him. In fact, I watch him clear a space on the counter, delicately separate the bacon slices and perfectly arrange them on the tray.
Can you tell where this is going?