When I had my bunionectomy, (which a friend referred to as a bunionoscopy, which I think is a much better name because it strikes me as funny), Peter started bringing me coffee in bed. I couldn’t quite believe how much I liked it. I felt a little like Lady Mary on Downton Abbey (but not as pretty, or as lavishly adorned).
When I could walk again, and make my way down to the kitchen just fine on my own, Peter continued bringing the coffee. And I practically gave him a standing ovation every morning. It just felt like such a special thing to have done for me. I felt pampered, and hell, pampered is good.
Grateful for my big mug ‘o coffee delivered to my big bed of covers while I’m still in it. Peter, you make my day.