Pass the water please

Today for breakfast I made myself a tuna melt. Do you know what that means? (No, I'm not pregnant.) It means I'm feeling better (thanks for the prayers). I was kind of sick this week, some viral thing and I totally lost my appetite (I didn't lose an ounce, apparently there were enough little fat cells in my body to sustain itself). Anyway, being the martyr I am, I cooked dinner for my family yesterday. I made gravy (spaghetti sauce for those of you who think gravy is brown). I make gravy like Gramma, "a little of this, a little of that, let me taste it baby." I put in the usual spices and thought it so bland, so I added a little of this and a little of that. . .still bland. . .a little more of this and a little more of that. . .still bland. . .some green peppers, hot Italian sausage, dry red wine, crushed red pepper. . .now it's starting to taste better. . .a tiny bit more crushed red pepper and it's good to go. I set it on the stove to simmer and went off to see my son play basketball (their first win of the season - yippee) and it occurred to me while I'm watching the game (blowing my nose and coughing) that maybe the gravy only tasted bland because I was sick. After the game I happily (like any good martyr) served my family their spaghetti dinner and not a word was said about the gravy. In fact, the only words spoken were a hoarse, "Pass the water please."