She decides to email Professor Clark, who we haven't seen since our wedding, and ask. I'm not sure of the details exactly, though, because we're (I'm) watching her discs of Avatar while wrapped up in twenty blankets.

My favorite character is Zuko. Annabelle's is Appa.

I've got something in the oven, and oh, now it's beeping. I don't particularly want to get up. But then again, I don't particularly fancy dealing with a multitude of burned almond sugar cookies. It's a recipe I found online, and I'm trying it out. With like fifteen revisions. Which makes me anxious about the outcome, because I have no idea how they're going to turn out.

They smell edible when I take them out, which I guess is a good sign.

"Good news, sugar!"

"Is it that we're goin' down swinging?"

"Yes," she beams, and then wiggles her eyebrows. "Professor Clark said that he has a course I can take to become a professor."

"Okay," I said, getting on my tiptoes and pushing a curl out of her face. "I'm thinking wire-rimmed glasses, oversize, silver, y'know?"

She rolls her eyes. "I'm not getting glasses because I wanna look like a professor."

I nod solemnly. "Of course. You're getting glasses because you need them. To look like a professor."

I can see her wanting to argue. "We're going to the optometrist soon anyway, just because. If you need glasses, we'll get them, okay?"

I tug at the collar of her turtleneck, bringing her forehead down to rest against mine. I stare intensely into her eyes. Maybe if I stare hard enough I can read her mind.

"Cookies smell good," she murmurs, lips almost brushing mine. I beam.

"Great! Be my taste tester?"

"All righty." And that's that.

I'm pretty okay at experimenting with recipes, it turns out.