Vomit Shampoo

I haven’t gotten a thing done today. I got up at 7:30, showered and dressed then had to take my son to school since the Denali is on the fritz. Of course by the time he fixed his faux-hawk, found his left etnie, robbed his mother’s purse of lunch money (a $20 for lunch?) we had precisely 8 minutes to get to the school.

No problem, that’s doable.

Then I glanced at his FROZEN car. Yup, we keep our truck in the garage but his car braves the elements daily, and it was cold this morning.

I searched in vain for an ever illusive scraper–you know, the one that is constantly coming out from under the seat all summer but somehow flies south for the winter. So I used my visa.

Of course my son remembered something he had forgotten to do and I was left the finger numbing job of skinning the ice from his windows.

School was in full swing before we arrived.

And that was the best part of my day.

My wife slept in this morning–she had picked up my flu–so I was trying to work in my den when she came in to say Hi. She walked up to my desk (it faces the wall) lays her hand gently on my shoulder. I raised my own hand to hers and tilted my head to rub on her hand.

Then she yells “Oh, shoot!” jumps back and tries to cover he erupting mouth with her hand, spraying my hair, my shirt, my desk, my chair and my Dell with vomit. Fortunately she had the presence of mind to deflect her second volley into my trash can.

One great day for sure.