Well, Nat made the wife un-ass church early. I was surprised to hear the car pull up, and I opened the door to see Nat staggering up the sidewalk, burping into a big pink plastic pitcher. She's pale, big bags under the eyes, a temp of nearly a 100 (after drinking a cup of ginger ale) and my Sis's birthday celebration plans are fucked, for today.
Damn. I had a hankerin for the wife's Mac & Cheese, with some KFC and cole slaw. Oh well.
Dad's fucked up, both my parents are too old to be playing Flu Roulette, and one of the guests called in sick, too, so, suck it up, and put it off.
Damn, you just see that reinterception the Bears got? Awesome. Fuck those Seahags.
Now the wife says she's feelin peckish. Poorly. Tired. Gonna eat some quiche and lay her and the girl down. John is happy to be watching football and making train tracks. My eldest's beautiful wife taught him (Johnny) how to make brilliant, interlocking tracks, covering the entire living room floor. Really cool.
Pray for us in the hour of our infestation...