You look like crap says my husband from the safety of the kitchen. Thank God because I feel like crap and would not want to appear unbalanced to the world. Once again I am spewing over with germs and I woke up in a cocoon of misery, congested and dry-throated, the head a solid block of phlegm. The only solution to this viral invasion is to sequester myself on the couch with Kessler's and Puff's Plus and the Coen Brothers.
The boys are fighting again and that is to be expected due to the variables listed above plus the fact they have been in constant company of each other for the whole of Christmas vacation. I announce, we might as well go home and they quickly become angels with red sweaty faces and innocent expressions that ask, whadda I do now? Oh hell, here's a buck, go buy some taffy.