Sicko

Today has been remarkably nice. I haven't had a Saturday off for a few weeks and not having to set the alarm last night felt nice. Cole and I went to the store and stopped by work for my schedule. He was extraordinarily pleasant to be out in public with.

Eddy's car water pump went out over a week ago and he's yet to receive his parts to fix it. Today he tore it down so that when the parts come he'll be able to jump right in to the installation. I brought him lunch home from Wendy's and not even an hour later he was throwing up and stuff. And by "and stuff" I mean pooping. It is past 11pm and he still is sick. He barfed in this wood garbage basket I have up in our bedroom, I could barely put it in a plastic bag to go out to the trash without puking myself. He's gonna hafta buy me a new one. He's burning up too. Hopefully he'll feel better soon. I've been very productive with him being sick, I cleaned out our pantry, did the dishes, laundry, etc. He'll be happy when he can finally manage to make it downstairs.

I think I'll watch some stuff from the DVR and then go to bed, on the couch. I just cannot bring myself to sleep next to potential throw up and diarrhea. Poor guy. I love him, just not his bodily fluids. If I had a bell I'd give it to him to ring if he needed anything. But I don't. That makes my apprehension to sleep by him a little less mean, right?

Oh, at Walmart today this woman came up to me, put her hand on my shoulder and spoke in an onion-y smelling voice. She said something about me having two kids, her not able to have any because of scoliosis and mental delays, etc. I just grinned and nodded and kept repeating "thanks!" Her breath was horrid. I'm pretty sure she was admiring my little family, but MY GOD she smelled. Anyway.

Love to my peeps.