We're all sick here at my parent's house, which totally sucks but in
a way is awesome (making eggnog, here people: egg to the nizzle) because being sick means not having to do anything really at all.
Except of course, eat high carb treats and snot all over each other. Of
course in typical Woolf fashion we're all sick in different and very
individual ways:
I for one have the snots and a bad case of menstrual acne. (Va-va-va-VOOOM!)
Yes, sir. That's a Kleenex coming out of my bra cardigan.
My
brother has some kind of illnesside-effect that occurs after sucking
down a cocktail of vaccines (anti-Malaria, anti-Typhoid). He's heading
to India for a wedding and I may be sicker from jealousy than anything
else. Because India! Just... India!
Behowld! One beahded raht-bahstahd!
My
mom has a flu-bug which is less than pleasant. (Will not go into
details here, although she looks totally hot despite her cold sweats. I
mean...Really...
...You go, girl.)
Archer's
been sick with a fever which is horribly depressing. He isn't sleeping
of course. And living on cookies and the Children's Tylenol I've been
forced to choke him with (Nothing sucks more than force-feeding your
child meds to quell his fever. Ugh! I can still recall my own mother
torturing me in the same way!)
And Hal is just sick. As in "Ew, Hal! You're sick!" so there's that...
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