My wife, Sharalee, and I had returned from a weekend in Portland in time to watch the SuperBowl. Just us, our pull-out couch and a Costco sized box of eggrolls. Sharalee became physically ill, partly due the quantity and quality of food that we inhaled and partly because the New England Patriots had just beat the Philadelphia Eagles to win the game. We loved Donovan McNabb and his kind smile. Projecting that she would be making multiple trips to the lavatory throughout the night (not sure if there is a more polite way to say that), she chose to sleep in the living room and I made the noble sacrifice of going to bed in our room. I am a very good husband.