Sorry, guys. I'm beat. My beloved Dr. Krog has swine flu. Or H1N1, as they keep begging us to call it so that China will continue purchasing our hoggery. And lemme tell you, it is the roughest illness he's had in our 10 years together, including the time that he barfed like a mustard fire hose. Because that was just alcohol, but this is SERIOUS.
So I've got to care for two kids who can't be in the same room with their daddy, while trying to force that daddy to eat and drink and not just pour the whole bottle of Ibuprofen down his gullet and start chewing. And every time I deliver the soon-to-be-uneaten food to his clammy hands, I have to go boil my entire body in bleach and purify myself with flame. Oh, and our only TV is in the quarantine room with Dr. Krhogflu.
People, go wash your hands. Buy some more Purell. AVOID. AVOID.
Thank goodness for Etsy. If I couldn't brainlessly search for the perfect chunky necklace for fall, I think I'd go mad. Funny, isn't it, how we cope with insanity?