Cold comfort

Comfortable. Being comfortable was our primary goal today at House of Flu.

So we stayed in our jammies all day. Became one with the couch, watching the best stories ever come to life on the television screen.

And at lunchtime, we ate our favorite sandwiches: ham for Carter. PB-and-J for S and K.

For me? Avocado something-or-other.

Allow me to explain.

My sister Mary is one of those special people who always seems to leave a place better than she found it. It's just one of her many endearing qualities.

So when she comes for a visit, whether it's for a few days or a few months, she brings with her a mental to-do list. She's kind of like Santa Claus, channeling Martha Stewart.

Maybe she'll attack my kitchen pantry, which is, on any given day, so disheveled and disorganized that the sight of it would easily bring the Queen of Clutter to her knees.

She might order me to pitch six-foot stacks of unread magazines into the recycling bin.

"You cannot convince me that you need this Southern Living from two years ago," she'll say. "If you ever actually get around to making Florentine Potato Gratin, which is doubtful, I promise you can find the recipe on-line."

And she's right, of course.

Occasionally, she attempts to improve the children, using techniques she has gathered from watching episodes of Supernanny and Dog Whisperer. These efforts are usually short-lived.

When Mary drove up to Dallas a few weeks ago, we had big plans for how productively we would employ her brief two-day stay. We were gonna whip this house into shape, by cracky, one room at a time.

And then we learned that her visit coincided perfectly with that of another v.i.p.

So instead of digging out my walk-in closet, we spent the better part of our time together standing shoulder-to-shoulder with 17,000 new friends, all eager to see and hear some guy from Chicago.

We weren't disappointed.

In true Mary style, however, she refused to leave town until we'd made two surprisingly efficient runs to The Container Store, delivered one hefty donation of gently used clothes and toys to Goodwill, and totally reorganized one bathroom cabinet.

As a final gesture, she also left me with the recipe for avocado something-or-other sandwich.

Or, as I now call it, A No-Fail Plan for Gaining Fifteen Pounds in Three Weeks.

Here's the blueprint:

Two pieces of multigrain bread, slightly toasted and thinly smeared with mayonnaise. On one side, layer cheddar cheese and half of a medium, al dente avocado, neatly sliced.

The other side gets a thick coating of alfalfa (not brussels) sprouts, sprinkled liberally with sunflower seeds.

Smush together. And savor.

Sounds like a strange combination, I know. But it's seriously delicious. Absolutely satisfying. And definitely comforting.

Thanks, Mar. Love you, sweets.