There was no way I was driving home from writing group straight away tonight, so we got on the horn to Adam.
"Honey," Rob told his cell-phone voice mail, "I want you to put something in my mouth ... a tuna sandwich." I kicked him in the ankle, but that did little to dissuade him.
"Tuna Palace!" Warren informed him when we called again on the home number. "I want dice tuna!" (I think that's what he said ... I wasn't 100 percent aware at the moment.)
When he walked into Sean's studio, the guys all stood up and greeted him with warmth. That made me feel good.