Saturday.

After running some errands this morning, Mr. How Sweet stopped by a florist and picked me up some flowers.

You are probably wondering what he did wrong.

The answer is nothing, but he says he will surely screw up before the weekend is over. He is quite proactive.

Really, these are his thanks for changing his bandages twice a day, every day, which has led me to be forever traumatized. Only bacon can make it better.