Last weekend (yes, as in over a week ago) we celebrated my birthday.
Normally not writing about my birthday would be A Major No-No but this year I have decided, woe, I am old, so screw that.
Also? All my gifts were purchased at the hardware store.
My boys have class.
Oh. And Darwin did get me a highly inappropriate card (Oedipus complex much?) that Aaron didn't even catch on until I sat him down and explained it to him.
So, anyway. Yes. My birthday. Then the next day, all hell broke loose.
"All hell" in this instance being some hybrid of the flu and head colds and stomach viruses and acidic drippy noses and AREN'T YOU GLAD I'M NOT WRITING ABOUT MY BIRTHDAY?
Let's do this another way...
Griffin home from school for four days.
Baby ran fever, got snotty and broke out in a rash.
Aaron got sick.
I got sick.
Darwin has a perpetual drippy nose.
Emery and I spent four hours at urgent care yesterday.
Big snow and ice storm coming.