Alan and I are e-mailing back and forth; a friend of ours is in the hospital and he just learned her room number last night. This exchange unfolded over the course of the day:

Helly: Since it's nearly the weekend and we're not sure how long she'll be there, I'm thinking I will wait and send some flowers to the house once we know she's home. Otherwise, that will just be one more thing to have to lug home - your thoughts?

Alan: That sounds like a good idea. I'm not sure I have her home address, but I'm guessing Nancy has it.

Helly: I have it. I have everyone's address now, unless they've moved, from wedding invitations, thank you notes, etc. Anyway, don't you remember we sent her a card a couple of weeks ago?

Alan: I guess I sort of remember that we sent her a card. I didn't remember until you mentioned it, though. Sometimes I forget that I'm married to Darth Organized, Queen of all Spreadsheets and Other Goodness.

Helly: This gives me great hope. One day, I'm going to come home driving my Ferrari, and when you act all shocked and outraged and maybe even a tad pissed that I've spent so much/put us into so much debt, I'm going to look at you all innocent, blink in confusion and say, with great sincerity, "But honey, we discussed this! Three weeks ago and again on Thursday when I showed you the brochure!"