Superman

I know The Husband thinks he's superman - and frankly, he mostly is - but he's in napping.  Yesterday, the day after the surgical removal of a wisdom tooth, we:  went to the movie (not too strenuous, but boring without popcorn), ate at Paradise (soup for him) and went to Ikea (he sat in a chair while I dashed back upstairs, but he did help load a box of shelves into my car) and yes....I drove.

This morning he's feeling great he says.  So he hung the clock over the doorway, and (according to him) slowly brought in the shelves, piece at a time into my sewing room.  No heavy lifting, just lots of back and forth walking.  Then he assembled the shelves.  And now he's knackered.  You overdid it today, says me, to which he replied, maybe a little.  So:  Superman?  Today I think it's just AlmostSuperman.

And a big thank-you shout-out to our friend who brought over some gelato for Superman.  It has been thoroughly enjoyed.