As a Dog...

Oh me. Oh my.  I feel like I'm gonna...yup, yup, that's what I'm gonna do.  And on the night we had tacos for dinner...what a waste of tasty awesomeness.  I mean really.  I can't get sick on a grilled cheese night.  Well, that would also be a waste of yumminess, so my statement is invalid.  The worst part is we can't figure out what I ate that made me such.  No one else got sick.  Bear made a healthier taco with corn tortillas, ground turkey and fresh everything.  Everyone else is happy and keeping their dinner down.  As bad as it was, it's not like I'm off tacos for life.  I mean honestly.  The person who invented the taco is a culinary genius.  To NOT eat tacos would be an abomination.  How rude.  I'm better this morning, but I'm honestly afraid to eat.  I'm about to try cereal.  

You forget how truly awful it is to vomit until your head is in the hopper.  It's just terrible.  The dog even walked by and was all, "Sucks for you, bro.  I'll be thinking of you while I chew my feet and then bark for no reason."  The cat walks by, "Know that your illness will not effect your duties, Minion.  I expect to be fed and adored on schedule.  Just the sight of me should have you feeling better already.  You are welcome."  It's so suck-tastic.  Bear even tried to let me sleep in today, but the girls would have none of it.  They lost their minds this morning.  So great.  It's cool though.  I know moms rarely get sick days, and hey, I can walk so things are looking up.  Anyway, here's wishing you a vomit free day whether it be you or someone else.  

Viva Buymoria.