(Notes pinned to the pillow of a mother who has the flu by her meaning husband.)
Monday A.M.
Dearest: Sleep late. Everything under control. Lunches packed. Kids off to school. Menu for dinner planned. Your lunch is on a tray in refrigerator: fruit cup, finger-sandwiches. Thermos of hot tea by bedside. See you around six.
Tuesday A.M.
Honey: Sorry about the egg rack in the refrigerator.
Hope you got back to sleep. Did the kids tell you about the Coke I put in the Thermoses? The school might call you on this. Dinner may be a little late. I'm doing your door-to-door canvas for liver research. Your lunch is in refrigerator. Hope you like leftover chili.