Suzy and I had dinner at Le Café on Friday night. It’s only the second time we’ve been out together, alone, since Simon was born 9 months ago. By the time we got there, seated by the window overlooking skating on the Canal, we were both exhausted. But the jazz trio was good, and so was the food. They have a $20 table d’hote.
We were headed to the sugar bush for some tire yesterday when Simon decided to cry, so we went to a park instead.
Something wasn’t right. I had a wicked headache, which has now morphed into a bad head cold. Spent 3 hours in bed this afternoon.
Ever see that Contac cold and flu commercial where the guy sits on a bus shelter bench and says to the guy next to him, “Rotten cold.” The other guy, looking pale but otherwise well, says, “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“No you don’t.”
I’m on Contac, and it doesn’t work that well. The only time I ever benefitted from Contac Cold and Flu tablets was one winter when I went through a supply of tablets that were 3 years past the expiry date. Great dreams!
My temp is a slightly elevated 39F tonight. The kids are asleep, and Suzy and I plan to watch Kandahar.
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