|This is what yesterday felt like around here.|
That was also the vomiting event whose incredible blast radius and devastating collateral damage drove us to instate our "Vomit in Place" policy; but I digress.
In a rather futile attempt to forestall any more illness, I washed all the Ektorp slipcovers that the children (and Larry) had been so inconsiderately breathing on while ill. I considered buying surgical masks for everyone, but decided against it, as enforcement of their use would have been rife with difficulties. Also, it would have frightened the neighbors.
So here we are, trying to stay positive and cheerful in the midst of this plague, and Harold Ramis up and dies on us. How the heck are we supposed to cope? I have the polka music from Groundhog Day running through my head nonstop. NONSTOP, I tell you. And this scene from Ghostbusters, of course...
Print is dead, and now so are you, Harold. RIP. And thanks for all the laughs...
[Laundry woman image: Incredible Art]