Well, it just wouldn't be a complete weekend unless someone else came down with the flu bug.
And it is twelve kinds of no fun.
But, on the upside, Becks is feeling better. And him and B are going to the grocery store for me. Which should be really interesting. As long as B comes home with a decongestant for me, I don't really care if he grabs milk, bread, or anything else for that matter. Well, I guess do. Since there is nothing to eat here for the boys.
Also, I cannot taste anything. Besides the faintest taste of Diet Coke. At least I have that little bit of happy. Because my head basically feels bloated. More specifically my face. It's like someone blew up a balloon inside my nose. Is that gross? Sorry. But it's bad.
And, for the record, this is our second straight weekend spent pent up in the house nursing each other back to health. So. Over. It. If I have to lay on this couch watching one more Jersey Shore rerun I'm going to die. I can only take so much Jersey slang. I'm going to start referring to everyone as little meatballs here soon. Anyway...
Hope y'all are well!