Sundays and why we love them

Sundays are good days for getting things done. 

My husband, the poor dear, is not feeling well. 


sooooo sleeeeepy...

He has a cross between a cold (I think) and the black plague (he thinks).  Oddly enough, he started not feeling well while we were watching the movie Contagion last night.  Luckily, the incubation period for ME getting sick seems to be a lot longer than in the movie, although having Gwyneth's figure might be worth the tradeoff.

To continue, he got up several times during the night coughing and feeling as if he were choking.  He found that by sitting on the chaise part of our sectional he could both sit up and sleep with a minimum of coughing, leaving me a queen sized bed with just-put-on clean sheets to loll around in, as well as being able to hog both pillows. 

I was dimly aware of him coming back to bed around 8 this morning, at which point he tossed and turned and finally just got back up to make coffee, loudly apologizing the entire time for his coughing.  Which I had not noticed until he loudly apologized for it. 

I returned to lala land, dreaming about puppies and kitties, sunshine and rainbows and napping, when a short 15 minutes later the bedroom door squeaks open and here comes a real puppy, albiet one weighing 90 pounds, who bounds up onto the bed and before I could protect any soft body parts that should be protected when a 90 pound dog is near, he's up on the bed greeting me.  Enthusiastically.



MY bed.


(sigh)

As I said, it was a day for getting things done, and my husband was merely being considerate by gently (snort) waking me up early so that I could get a great start on my day.

Once up, however, we both happily devour the paper and several cups of coffee and some toast with peanut butter on it, then turn on the Real Estate Connection which is a big hit around our house.  The program shows one home after another for sale in our area, including pictures of the insides of the homes and all the amenities.

I get dressed for the day.  After all, I have to do a ton of laundry, pick up some last minute items for the lasagna, get my hair cut, get my tire checked, and get some clothes to the cleaners...then come back, color my hair, finish the laundry, make the lasagna, revel in my awesomeness at haircoloring, and do the kids' taxes.  The tire place was closed, as was the cleaners, but I still got quite a bit accomplished. 


much shorter...me likey.



 So here it is, 3pm.  My husband is about to take another dose of cold meds and probably take another snooze on the couch.  I'm going to get to those darn taxes.  I am going to make some brownies to bake while I'm working on that, check the mirror every hour to make sure that I still lurrve my "herr" (she did a REALLY nice job cutting it) and start the lasagna pretty soon.  Everyone is looking forward to it, including me.

I love Sundays.

Now if only there were a football game on, life would be perfect...