One day last week, Dave didn't feel good. Couldn't put a point on it, but sort of fell out of his office chair and into a half-hour nap in the bed. Got up, felt better, but still not right. Took the computer to the family room and said,
Do we have any canned soup?
You have to remember to whom he was speaking. Of course I keep a can of tomato soup for emergencies. I'm an American woman who raised her kids on grilled cheese and tomato soup every Saturday, right?
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