Confessions of a Serial Swooper

…I went down, down, down
And the flames went higher.

Did you miss me?   Well, I’ve been away.  I went on a six day walkabout through Hell.  Hades.  The Underworld.   Old Dante had nothin’ on me.

And Hell hath no fury like a stomach bug passed along from a five year old to a two year old within a very loooooong six day span.

Ah, where to begin?  How about this?  If I asked you to name the locations at which you would least like your children to throw up you’d probably say…?

#1.  Their beds?   Course.

#2.  Your bed?  Oh, yes.   A few times, in fact.

#3.  Inside a friend’s car?  Charming.  How to make friends and influence people…

#4.  On your computer?!  Awesome.  (As you all can imagine, this was the worst for me.  It happened on day one of my six-days in Hell and oohh, it hurt.  Funeral rites were performed.  And the replacement was not cheap.)

I won’t go into any more detail.  Suffice to say that it was all hideous and stinky and awful and I felt very sorry for my kids and even more sorry for myself.

I hear it rained?  We had a little wind?  What happened to Boner?  There was a hockey game?

But, the boys appear to have come out of the dark, dark place and into the light and onward we go.  School for Big Brother today, grocery store for Little Brother and me, life returns.

My washing machine desperately needs a day off.   So, do I.