On the eve of our seventh wedding anniversary, I got home almost an hour late; I'd gotten two days off work, Friday and Monday, but then, of course, some crisis would just *have* to happen on Thursday afternoon and keep me at the office an extra hour. I drove a bit faster to make up for it, and the traffic was lighter at that time of day.
"Honey, I'm home," I called out as I walked in the door.
"I'm in the lab," came Jenny's muffled voice. Still working on our anniversary present, apparently.
I opened the basement door and said "I'll change clothes and come down in a bit."
"It's almost done," Jenny called out a few minutes later as I walked down the basement stairs. "Go ahead and undress and climb into the chamber on the left. You haven't eaten or drunk anything for the last six hours, right?"
"No, I remembered what you told me this morning. It's not going to mess anything up if I get in before you're quite finished, is it?" I asked, stalling.
"No, it's fi