If you’ve ever fantasised about lying in bed and being fed by hand while supine, banish the thought. For one, it is the deadliest, most boring of the seven deadly sins — or, at least, sloth is — and for another, the wife likes her sheets spotlessly clean, so even the thought of a stray crumb can cause her to forget that you are not lying amidst them by choice but because of post-operative care. People equate lying down — mandated by the surgeon-general, or, in my case, retina surgeon, which I think counts pretty high in the pecking order
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