Barf.

The title of today's post is a bit literal-minded as I have spent considerable time today cleaning up after my sick little brother (11) and the, uh, bi-product of said sickness. Apparently it is coming on fast because the carpet, couch, pillow, blanket, chair and generally everything else in the house has served as a receptacle...that is, everything except the toilet.

So I am Queen of Spot Shot carpet cleaner and have gone through an entire bottle in an attempt to ensure no one will accidentally sit down on a wet spot and discover they have been soiled with stomach acid. It is all bringing back memories of the year April Peel vomited all over her desk in the third grade and the distinct smell of that sawdust stuff the janitors used to clean it up.

Perhaps I should get a jumpsuit with my name on it. That would be classy.