I went out for my walk this morning and spotted a police car, a fire engine, and an ambulance . Reason? There was a skunk wandering back and forth across the road in broad daylight with his entire snout (and eyes) stuck inside a plastic yogurt cup. A nearby resident had called 911 because they couldn't figure out what to do. And neither could anyone else, actually. Neither the firemen nor the policeman nor the EMT's were willing to grab a skunk from behind in order to free its head from a plastic cup. Mind you, these were people who would run into a burning building or go straight towards a gun-waving lunatic, but this skunk had them all cowed. I wish I had had a camera.
I came home, ready to regale Larry with this tale of suburban unrest, and found him rummaging around looking for a dishpan. Bad sign. As he's usually not overcome with an urgent need to wash dishes by hand, I had to assume the worst. And I was right - we were being visited by the stomach virus fairy.
S/he got Rachel this time, but I'm sure that within the week we all will have been treated to a dose of this lovely stomach flu. And, considering that Rachel's thrown up 4 times this morning with absolutely nothing in her stomach, it's gonna be a doozy.
One of our neighbor's boys (the one who didn't get his head laid open by Brian in our basement) broke his arm yesterday. And it wasn't at my house. Thank you, Lord. And there is a silver lining to this situation; at least while the cast is on, I'll be able to tell those 2 boys apart. I told their mother that, but it didn't seem to cheer her up.
Well, Rachel's decided to take a break from vomiting and have a nap; so I'm going to try to get everyone served lunch - not that anyone, aside from Brian, has much of an appetite today. Brian (aka Mr. Steel Stomach) could sit and eat a sandwich while watching someone puke their guts out. It's a skill he has.