Last night I met Mr. T at the grocery store after work. We were in the produce section, and Mr. T had just decided that the pears didn't look good, and was trying to find an alternate fruit.
I said, "What about these Jazz Apples? They look good."
Mr. T looked at me and said, "Jazz Apples."
Without another word, both of us turned to face the apples and did "jazz hands" at them.
This is why I love this man.