Dayenu

If we had lived 2,000 years ago, we would have had to put lamb's blood on our door so that during the tenth plague, little Brown Brown wouldn't have been smote. (Seems to me that that word should be "smoted," but Mr. Merriam and Mr. Webster tell me that "smote" is the past tense. But I like "smoted" better.) We went to a really terrific seder last night at friends of my family. Since one of the couple is an HBS professor, he and Adam went off to talk about boring things together, but I had a great time talking with their daughters who are my and my sister's ages. Of course, as I get tired so easily, I started to fade at about 10:05. I said to Adam, "I know we've got to get you home so you can read cases," and he said, "Oh no, I don't have any cases to read for tomorrow." You can tell that we've mastered the art of the secret spousal language. It was actually a lot of fun hanging out longer and chatting, but I was absolutely exhausted when we left at 11:20 . But the food was delish and it was wonderful spending the evening with a bunch of smart non-CWITs. And I was very excited when their daughter told me I definitely look "fat." Yeah! I have finally "popped" and the last remaining non-maternity pair of pants I own went in 48-hours from "decent fit" to "couldn't even get close to buttoning even if I held my breath the entire day."