I love nature, being outside (despite my ding-dang allergies), breathing fresh air, wind, and all that other crunchy-granola-hippie-type of crap. But every-so-often, sometimes nature’s a friggin’ bitch, man.
You remember my mentioning how we were welcomed home by PukeGate2011 revisited, right? Not but two days later, Baby Dude starts, too. Which made no sense to me because, how could he catch food poisoning, which is what we were sure they had, because their illnesses happened simultaneously? How could Baby Dude possibly get this two days later?
Annnd then it gets worse.
There I am, same day, suddenly feeling worse for wear, needing to nap with the kids, waking up feeling God-awful and finding myself paying a visit to the porcelain-god myself.
As if that isn’t the awesomest of the awesome news, a day later, both my oldest children confess to me their burps “taste funny” – which, in parent-speak, is not only fantastically gross, but also means they’ve got some funk going on themselves, too.
What the crap, yo?
End of the soccer season parties and games all happening this weekend as well as other post-trip type busy-ness, and here I am at home with kids who can’t shake whatever this is 100%, kids with leaking orifices and the Laundry Pile of Doom™.
God help me.
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