"I'm going to Texas," the Sober Husband, who travels a lot for work nowadays, informed me. "On February 14th."
I looked at him. "Do you know what day that is?" I asked sternly.
He gave me his best Bambi-caught-in-the-headlights look, with long, fluttering eyelashes over beseeching eyes. I stared stonily.
Eventually a child broke the silence. "It's Valentine's Day, duh!" said the child contemptuously to her father.
"And I guess we're not doing anything for it," I said.
