On Valentine's Day proper, I took some cold medicine, a nice long nap, and declared myself miraculously healed...just in time for us to stick with our original grand romantic plan of seeing a drag show with a big group of friends.
(Today, to all those friends, I am so, so sorry if I touched you or breathed on you. I tried not to, for the most part. But turns out I vastly overestimated my recovery and have been paying for that night ever since, because this cold is horrrrrrible and my entire body hurts from all the coughing and sneezing. Noah is better but now Ezra is home sick, Ike is sniffling, and Jason is away in California until tomorrow but also complaining about a cough.)
(Sorry to California, too, then.)
But anyway, back when I momentarily thought the worst was behind me, we saw some drag queens.
The show was called "Love Can Be a Drag," do you get it do you get it I got it okay good.
Jason took over a dozen pictures of me and I hated every single one and couldn't understand why I looked so pale and puffy and haggard in them, which should have been my clue that my cold was simply lying dormant for a few hours, preparing to launch its second wave.
(I look like I am possibly reflecting on my life and poor choices here, but nah. I am just looking at the beer list.)
Our friends tried to catch Jason off-guard here...
But NOPE. Always prepared, that one.
So that was our Valentine's Day...Jason had to catch a flight the next day and our next correspondence went something like this:
And then I received one final romantic gift from my romantic husband: delicious matzoh ball soup from Katz's Delicatessen, delivered right to our door:
(Also a Reuben platter and deli pickles, but I'm going to save those until he gets home, because I can be kind of nice sometimes too.)