I love covered bridges. LOL my first kiss with the husband and first sober kiss (LOL, I mean THE FIRST FIRST etc, it's also a bit embarrassing to admit) was after he took me to a covered bridge in PA and told me this story about how his grandmother would call them "kissing bridges." And would stop halfway across to kiss the grandkids.
LOL a few years later I think I was having a suspicious moment and I was like, "Did you ever do that with any other women," I mean... It's a good you know, idea.
He immediately said, "Yes."
As I prepared to STOMP off in a snit going, "That... why can't he LIE ever."
He grabbed my hand, laughed, and said, "My grandmother."
I was schooled. LOL.
Anna