When you’ve had a rough night recovering from surgery, are in a ton of pain, and suddenly get a craving for something so specific it could’ve only come from your eight-year-old self… An iced bun. But not just any iced bun. A proper, old-school, glazed-to-perfection, slightly hard, traditional bakery style iced bun. Which, let me tell you, is surprisingly hard to find if you don’t live up north. Cue Nick, who consulted the people of the gram, and got straight out of bed this morning, gathered your iced bun recommendations like a man on a mission, and then drove around clearing out two bakeries so I could have every single one. Pain level: still high. Husband level: iconic!! Honestly, this unlocked a core childhood memory from every time I felt crap. And now here I am, post-op, emotional, and biting into the exact same kind of bun… but with my husband by my side making sure I’m cared for like royalty. He’s looked after me so well these last few days, and this just felt like the sw...