This week had been maybe not Rory's favorite.
Like, on the one hand, you know what was nice? Having a rapturously attentive husband who was under the influence of sex pollen, that's what. But that whole thing got a lot less cute when she wasn't nineteen anymore, and they had two small kids who were prone to knocking on the bedroom door at really inopportune moments, and just -- sigh.
Not to mention that there was still glitter kind of everywhere. Like seriously.
But! But hey, things were a little more normal now, and just in time for the world's most awkward dinner, hooray! Rory had ordered in tapas, made sure the kids were both dressed decently (and then given up when Juliet decided she was going to wear her princess costume from Halloween, because...look, sometimes you just had to pick your battles), and now she was bustling around rearranging throw pillows and making sure that there weren't dirty coffee mugs or old receipts lying around or anything.
Because obviously that was what Obi-Wan was going to care about most.
(Though, of course, she took a moment to at least send out a really important text, because priorities.)
[for those guys who wear robes all the time. god i wish i could wear a robe all the time.]