One of the reasons my husband is fabulous is that when he prepares me a plate of leftovers, he puts the perfect amount of each food on it, based both on what I like best and on how much of it I will eat.

He’s also fabulous because he does things like leave me a plate of leftovers on the counter before he goes to have dinner with his grandmother, because I have my head buried in my laptop rushing toward big deadlines.

Here’s Cleo, yawning while I started to set the tables yesterday before the feast.

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