Love, Actually

We didn't start out this weekend with any set plans but as soon as I woke up on Friday I knew exactly what it was going to be: Two days of snoozing on the couch in pjs, ugg boots and a fluffy robe... Two days surrounded by boxes of Kleenex and cups of tea... Two days of sinuses that felt like they'd been filled with super glue... And two days of Hugh Grant dvds delivered to my sick bay along with made-to-order meals by the man who knows that the only reasonable defence against a head cold is sympathy, cheesy spaghetti with tomato sauce and sautéed spinach (comfort & vitamins!), warming foot rubs and, most importantly, a ready stack of romantic comedies in which an emotionally stunted British 80s pop star/ prime minister/ independently wealthy playboy performs at least one hi-larious song and/or dance number in a bid to tap into his heart of gold and win the girl. Works every time.