My husband and I lying in bed last night:

Me: I feel battered by everything: February, the coup. The coup. February. We should get massages.

Him: Yes! We have those gift cards from when we were in lockdown, still, right?

Me (excited): Yes! I’ll book tomorrow. (after a moment). Shit!

Him: What?

Me: Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day. It’ll be booked solid.

Him: Shit.

Me: Fking Valentine’s Day.

Him: Fking Valentine’s Day.

Me: Happy Valentine’s Day.

Him: Happy Valentine’s Day.

We both fall off the bed laughing.

(insanely happily married forty-one and a half years)