I woke up to liquid spewing on my face this morning. Which is no where as pervy dirty as it sounds, however, it is as regular dirty as it sounds. You see, there is no alarm clock more efficient than your toddler projectile vomiting in your face in the wee hours of the a.m. Unfortunately, it seems as if Allie has finally caught the plague funk that is spreading throughout these parts lately, and I almost sure that it is creeping up on me.
Here at Chez Manda, we are wading through vomit and snotty tissues. With that hygiene-laced anti-quip said, I will not be able to update you on the 80’s Lady situation today. However, the benefit of the lack of update is that my update tomorrow will contain extra material from the phone call I guarantee that I will receive from her tomorrow morning.
Additionally, I am almost certain 80’s Lady Jr. will track me down again tomorrow, because she probably realizes that I am in the same building at the same time on Tuesday and Thursdays. The adventure is coming, believe me.
Oh, the infinite joy!
If you could send wine well wishes our way, that’d be wonderful.
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