You should know by now that any time I manage to go five days without blogging someone is sick and probably throwing up on my pillow while I try to sleep.
It’s Troy. Stomach flu. AGAIN. Second time in two weeks. My pediatrician was all, “Wow, you must be trying to set a record”.
No, no we are not. Unless the record is Going The Longest Without Seeing The Doctor. Then I would like to set the shit out of that bad boy.
Monday night, after going out and buying everything we needed for Thanksgiving dinner because I refuse to be a dickhead in the grocery store at seven p.m. on Wednesday night (like last year and the year before that and the YOU GET THE POINT), Troy started Vomitpalooza.
My husband came home and I was all, “I need to shower, don’t give him anything to drink because you will wear it”. As I am stepping into the shower to rinse off, I hear Troy unload the cup of pedialyte ALL OVER MY BED that he let him drink. He even put ice in the cup before he gave it to him. How thoughtful.
Fact: My husband might have some sort of brain malfunction that causes him to block out the sound of my voice. Also a fact: I still haven’t showered.
So, I sit here and I’m trying to ignore how awful my stomach feels and I somehow need to turn all this into dinner tomorrow.
But before I can cook one thing, I need to disinfect my entire house. While doing important stomach flu internet research, I learned that the virus can live for two weeks on surfaces. OH GOD. I also learned that cranberry juice could possibly prevent the stomach flu because it has antiviral potential, which is why the oceanspray bottle I am using for my turkey brine is missing some juice. I drank a cup and threw in some tequila for good measure. I’m not going down without a fight.
Plus being kinda drunk helps me clean.
Happy Thanksgiving, playas. Or just Happy Thursday. Whatever. I’m down.
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