I hope you already ate your dinner…’cause this might make you lose your appetite. Me? Nope.
Storytellers are immune.
Hope you had a lovely Christmas! Baby got all sorts of cool stuff. Of course he’s at the age where
everything just goes in his mouth. He actually got irritated that the xylophone wouldn’t fit in his mouth. Maybe next year.
Now I’ve always been proud of my hearty manly immune system. True story- last time I got sick (uh, apart from college and drinking too many…sodas…), was in high school.
(Ermehgosh I think I know where this might be headed)
When baby came down with some funky stuff down south I didn’t think much of it.
(Oh geez I really don’t really want to know the details)
But by midday at work on Friday, those ominous urpy hiccups started, I knew that I needed to get home and have my trash can ride shotgun.
(Seriously please don’t go there)
And as soon as my queasy stomach knew it was home, it was all over.
I called Ralph.
(NO)
I bowed to the porcelain throne.
(GROSS)
I liquidated my assets.
(MAKE IT STOOOOOOP!)
Baby ended up infecting 79.4% of those he came into contact with over the holiday. It was just his li’l way of making his first Christmas memorable.
So I have no recipes this week. Red Jell-O and Gatorade. That’s about it. But I thought of a way cool thing to do for the new year- look for that on Thursday.
‘Til then, wash your hands thoroughly. And avoid me. And my baby.
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