And once again, the Halfway House has been hit with sickness. We've considered putting up a "Quarantined" sign on our door to keep unsuspecting visitors from entering and contracting this disease that has hit not one, not two, but all three of us lovely and victimized young women. I think we're all on the mend again, but none of us have been very happy campers in terms of health this week. Please, let it end!
Last night, Esther and I took advantage of our fleeting benevolent moods and made dinner for Becky and Noah, then left them alone to enjoy the rest of their evening together without any fear of us bugging them or them bugging us. We basically ordered Becky to not arrive home before 6 o'clock, so I'm sure that her suspicions informed her we were doing something that involved dinner, but I'm sure she didn't suspect rose petals strewn across the living room floor (a last-minute addition so that they'd know they'd have to go to the kitchen). It was excellent timing, actually. We had just set everything on the table, lit the candles, and gotten the dishes put away when we heard Becky's laughter, so when they walked in, we just walked right out. After which we went to Carabbas. Mmm. And we all know how I feel about Carabbas. Scrumptious.
"It's no longer a question of staying healthy. It's a question of finding a sickness you like." -Jackie Mason