"Jib. I ab sick.Will you please go to the store and get be sub Alka Selzer Plus? Children are killig be." As you can see I have a terrific cold. The details are too gross, even for this irreverent site. I should have been wearing a rubber suit and mask last week. In short, the sputum was flying. And, of course, my house is a pigsty. Have you ever noticed that when one gets sick, one's home seems to be ill as well? Everything is cluttered, messy and there are strange smells emanating from odd places.
So...no making jewelry. No church services. Going to bed with dogs, which might not be as comforting as one would think. Some of the odd smells are definitely identifiable.
Jasper's gas-o-meter is on red alert.
Level I: Cover nose with turtle neck.
Level II: Cover nose with turtle neck, wave the foul air toward the other person in the room while blaspheming loudly.
Level III: Run to open all windows
Level IV: Evacuation is called for.
(When in bed with Jas instructions are the same with a few variations. One involves turning the fan so that you are not downwind. Another is cover your face with your pillow. And finally I have resorted to the butt tuck...smushing blankets all around Jasper's fanny to muffle the offensive odors. None of the aforementioned solutions are very effective. Sometimes you just have to grin and bear it, and wait for the air to clear.)
Everyone needs a Boston Terrier in their life. They are clowns. And what's a little gas between friends?
Say Goodnight Jasper.