It's official. This winter is trying to kill me...
This morning, Thing One stumbled in as I was sleeping to announce that he threw up. So, no school for him, which is ironic, because we are meeting with his teacher today to discuss why he hates school so much. Maybe because it induces nausea.
Going downstairs, the Hound of the Basketcase - who had her babymaker removed yesterday - had chewed into her pain meds and gobbled down all the Deramaxx. We know she's part labrador, I guess she's also part Sheen.
As I left to go teach, Most Sainted and Revered Wife of Wives was left waiting to hear from the vet whether or not she had to induce vomiting in the Hound of the Basketcase. I imagine the house looking like this:
Oh, and with the bill for Christmas coming due this month, money is tight to the point where neither I not my wife can do any stress shopping. She buys clothes, I buy Maestro Dobel.
The long range weather forecast suggests a coming thaw, but it seems to stay ten days away every time I frantically update AccuWeather.com.
One day, following regression to the mean theory, things will have to get better. But I don't remember things being so great that the crap we're wading through now is balancing out any previous good times.
Time to buy lottery tickets in bulk, maybe.
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