How to Make an Ammy Puddle
Last night as I climbed out of the shower, I sat on the bench in the kitchen fussing my hair. Rick took my towel and marched me down the hall, insisting that I lie down and enjoy the massage. I said, "But..." then shut up other than "Oooh... good spot." for the next 40 minutes. This is the wonderful guy I remember living with prior to 2 years of unemployment and a bad winter holiday season. It's nice to be back from the alternate universe.