The best feeling ever


Curled cross-legged on my bed in my purple fuzzy pajamas with the pink and green polka-dots, one hand curled around a Brandy toddy and sifting puzzle pieces with the other, I thought about the council meeting I was skipping.

Yes, pretty much the best feeling ever.

About 10 or 15 miles of snowy roads away, borough councilmen were discussing parking and snow removal and fire department officers and how you absolutely must shovel your sidewalk.

But thanks to an editor anxious about how few stories have been filed for his special section (due Friday, we have time still!), combined with a fairly significant snowstorm clogging the roads and a burning throat, I was spared.

So I spent my unexpected evening at home doing a puzzle in bed, sipping that hot toddy and downing cough drops like candy, listening to the laughter from the brothers’ break-tradition “man night” that seeped through the bedroom door.

And oddly? It was a great night, even if the kitchen was trashed when I woke up this morning. (Boys? Great job baking your own cake. Put the eggs back in the fridge next time.)

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