The unexamined face . . . ?

One thing I did mention was that I had had a headache the day before and had tried one of the suppositories, both as a dry run and as an alternative to Prontalgine (my mainstay for such attacks, but I wasn’t sure it would be acceptable under present circumstances). "The pain killer doesn’t seem to work for me," I reported. But she brushed that off. After all, a headache was hardly the same as the kind of pain awaiting me (little did I know!).

When she was leaving, the paella arrived. It was basic stuff, not very good. I’d asked for a Coke but that request was ignored. The caffeine maybe? Or the French resistance to Yankee globalization? Nando had requested unfizzy mineral water and that’s what both of us got. Plus a fruit for dessert. I ate in spite of myself. I was hungry. Also, I figured, I wouldn’t be in condition to eat the next day.

After the paella and before we turned out the lights, I asked my husband, "Why are you doing this for me? Because you love me or because you are ashamed of the way I look?"

"Oh, Cipo. why do you ask me these academic questions? You know I hate questions that are too deep, that I have to think about."

Champagne celebration

Because of these whispers of headaches, some of which develop into Gale Force disturbances, I have been popping Prontalgine (an OTC French painkiller with codeine) the way I used to pop M&M peanut candies. Just as well I’m going to France next month; my cache is dwindling rapidly (of Prontalgine, not of M & Ms).

Nando's birthday was yesterday and mine is tomorrow so we held a joint celebration today. A special dinner was capped by raspberries (my ultimate favorite fruit!) for dessert. Nando said, "We need champagne." I opened a bottle of prosecco and we sipped that as we spooned our goblets of raspberries and crème fraîche. So "it was all good", as our son Sacha would say.