I've been under the weather for the last few days with a stinker of a cold.
My head ached, my chest hurt from all the coughing and, as for the runny nose, I probably used enough tissues to fell a small forest. You'd probably have preferred not to know that.
Yesterday afternoon, Harry phoned me to remind me to put some Champagne in the fridge to celebrate the end of his nine days' run of work. It had to be pink Champagne, he had some colour matching to do. I protested that I wasn't well but he said that would make it easier for him, I'd be too weak to struggle. He loves to tease.
I was ready and waiting for him when he came upstairs, with the fizz and two glasses in hand. He had me lay across his lap on the bed, my favourite position, and the fun began.
Harry couldn't cure my cold but he knew just how to lift my spirits.
I'm feeling much better today; the combination of a warm bottom, chilled Champagne and a loving man was a great pick me up. We had a sweet reconnection of a different kind this afternoon.
Harry's taking a couple of extra days off over the Easter break. Fingers crossed that he doesn't catch my cold.