Three down, two to go. The sickness is moving through the house. I never got sick before I had a baby. Now, it's all the time. And it moves through the house. Sometimes it comes back. Kenny and Grammy got violently sick the other night. I thought it might have been the pizza we ordered. Two days since and now poor Uncle Wally is sick. Willie and I are the only ones still well, knock on wood. Hand sanitizer is my friend. Hand sanitizer is my friend. Sort of like Dorothy clicking her little red shoes together.
With my luck, it will be happy new year--you're sick.
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