My wife is easily pleased. She'd have to be, since she married me. (See how I connect with my readers by writing exactly what they're thinking as they're thinking it?) A month ago, it was Chanukkah or Chanucha or Hanukka, any spelling -- given the proper amount of phlegmy sounds-- will do.
Mostly we concentrate on giving gifts to our two lovely, if not spoiled, daughters. Deb and I lead modest lives and don't find ourselves wanting for much. But in the spirit of the season we do engage in some marginal gift exchanging.
To make a boring story shorter, on the 7th night of the Jewish Festival of Lights, I gave my wife the magical Kevlar-coated Ove' Glove. And just as I suspected, she was thrilled. Actually, she was beyond thrilled. She was ecstatic. How was I to know that a simple machine-washable oven mitt could produce such joy.
I don't think I'd ever seen her that happy. Well, that is until the 8th night of Hannukah, when I completed the matching set and gave her a second Ove' Glove.
Phlegmy Sounds. Great band, but their second CD was better.
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