This very well be my last post

but probably not...

I have the flu. or bronchitis. or strep. or pneumonia. or the plague.

I'm voting the plague.

I went to the doctor Monday and again today. While waiting today, I typed the following post in my email. My uberkool iPhone will not let me post here. (I should probably say that I haven't had the patience to figure out how. So, for all practical matters, it will not let me post. so there.)


I'm dying.

I have tried to end it all by coughing up my lungs. When I cough I need to blow my nose. When I try to blow my nose it makes me cough.

Stinkerbell was the first to get sick. She missed three days of school but is fine now.

I haven't ever been one to run a fever. My resting temp is 97.5. I know this because I took my temp every. single. morning. for endless months when I was trying to get pregnant with
Lucky. The last time I had a fever was the night I went back into the hospital for my d&c after squeezing the 9lb monster out my patooty.

I have now had a fever for 2 days.

The Mighty Hunter was out of town Tuesday night. It would have been little help for him to be home. Men are just not very helpful when the kids are sick. May the good Lord help us all if I'm sick at the same time as the kids AND he is!

I feel certain that should that perfect storm of cold bugs collide in the Auburn home, the sun would implode on itself, the moon would crumble, the oceans would fly from the surface of the earth and there would be no more chocolate. Clearly, the latter would be the greatest of all these tragedies.

So I was blessed with my moms help while The Mighty Hunter hunted turkeys. (Yes, a turkey hunting turkeys. Imagine that.)

As he drove home yesterday, he called to check in on us. My nickname when I'm sick is Mary - as in Typhoid.

Mary, how is everyone?

I'm dying. Thank you. We need a truck load of puffs plus, cough drops, milk and tomato bisque soup (im picky but especially picky when I'm sick.)

What do you think you have, Mary?

He thinks he's so cute.

The plague. I've run a fever. I've never coughed up so much crap. I've used all but the last 15 puffs plus for 15 square miles.

So I guess a little bl0w j0b is out of the question.

Not necessarily. I think you can do it for yourself after I rip your head off your shoulders.

There were, miraculously, no 911 calls or police reports filed from our house last night.

But, lemmetellya. I feel certain that no jury in this country would convict me.