Reports of my demise were only slightly exaggerated. I was felled by an extremely nasty flu virus that dutifully wiped out the entire household at once. I was lucky enough to get it last. Which means I've been playing nurse to Mom and the boys the better part of a week. I had no idea a four year old could hold such a volume of bile and semi-digested food in his stomach. Really quite remarkable. This explains why every single item of bedding in the house has to be washed. I'm staring at a mountain of laundry that reminds me of that scene from Johnny Dangerously where his Mom is doing all the laundry in the neighborhood. I've been taking copious amounts of DayQuil, NyQuil, Mid-morningQuil, AfterlunchQuil, and so on. This has abated many of the symptoms but I'm still as congested as Michael Moore's arteries. Tonight I think I'll use the tried and true Irish solution of whiskey in quantity.
This is very strange...
I'm an average guy with an average life. I have a few more kids than most but for the most part I'm just an anonymous lumpenprole toiling away in obscurity both professionally and on this blog. To say my life follows a certain routine is like saying " The Hindenburg caught fire." That is to say, technically accurate but wildly understates the truth. In any event, I just received a call from The Wife. To wit: "Did you order something?" "No, why?" "There's something here for you." "Uh, box, bag, envelope, singing telegram?" "It's a box" "Who's is from?" "It's from [Name redacted pending confession or further investigation]" "Who?" "(repeats name)" "No idea. Never heard of him." A quick google search later I find that the sender's return address is in the wilds of northern Pennsylvania. A place I have never visited. "Open it." "W...
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