This is the exchange between me and my husband after I suggested that I didn't want to cook today. (The Fuddruckers bit is basically our jokey shorthand for "the worst restaurant you could possibly pick" after we went on a double date there with some friends and wonder TO THIS DAY why they picked it.)

I have actually had a lovely birthday so far with Le Petit Comte (he is in a particularly great mood), but I have nevertheless felt sort of bummed on account of nausea, no real drinking allowed, no friends in the burbs to celebrate with (everyone is in NY, and we don't have a sitter tonight... And, I won't lie, I am a titch annoyed no one offered to come out here), AND my stupidly checking work e-mail today and getting sucked into that for about two hours despite being off today. This little sweetness perked me right up! (And it perhaps pathetically shows how I to Jez I am that he called me Comtesse...)