For the record, Ana likes to point out that the bed was for me, too. Actually, “for us” is what she likes to say. True. But then so is most of the crap we own. I maintain that it was my biting the bullet on the bedframe, and deciding to make a decisive purchase (rather than searching aimlessly for another couple months), that was Ana’s real gift. But I got her a couple CDs and the South Beach Diet book, just to hedge my bets. I think there’s no question that George Michael, “Patience,” was unequivocally “for her.”