Laundry Much?

This is what yesterday felt like around here.

All quiet on the vomiting front here, but we're still operating at ThreatCon Delta. There are 5 more people in this house who are trepidatiously monitoring their innards for any sign of gastrointestinal distress. The puke bucket remains strategically deployed, and any laundry is promptly processed in order to avoid a repeat of the Great Laundry Room Back Up of the year 2000. If memory serves me correctly, we lost a couple of sleeping bags in that particular battle, after we stuffed their puke-laden selves into plastic garbage bags with the intent of getting around to doing the laundry later.  Later never came; or, rather, it came too late to save those bags, unfortunate victims of seasonal stomach flu that they were.

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]