I'm 99.999908% sure I have strep-throat.
(The mouth blisters, diarrhea, nausea, headache, fever and total inability to swallow sort of gave it away...)
But thanks to Brett's irrational and unhealthy habit of hoarding antibiotics, I'm not going to the doctors.
Mainly because I don't want to leave the couch in fear of collapsing in a heap of unshowered grossness somewhere public. Like the doctors office. Or my driveway.
This is Day 2 of the "Neglect Your Children Marathon", and I have to say, I'm doing quite well. I've got Brett shipping in some chicken nuggets for lunch so I don't have to drag my sick/lazy butt ten feet to the kitchen to pour them a bowl of cereal.
They're also feasting on American Cheese Singles. Aww, to be a child and have a gallbladder again. Those were the days.
I think Mister Death will be searching for me, so if he stops by your place looking, send him on over.
"Dear, it's a Mister Death at the door, he's here about 'the Reaping'?" "Let him in, let him in."
Name that movie.
P.S. On a totally separate and unrelated and pointless note, why are all the cute hair fashions side dues when I have an almost 6 month old that LOVES to pull on my hair? Bummer.
That movie is "Monty Pythons The Meaning of Life" and it's one of the funniest movies ever. Thank you and good night.
(That's Post Post Post Script, for those of you keeping track...)
Still no decision on the Arizona/Rhode Island debate. I have a feeling we'll be going at it for some time...I'm confident I'll win though. I have the ultimate bargaining power. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about *wink wink*. That's right...horrifying hormonal imbalances that could snap at any minute. Oh, and boobs.
On that note, good night.