Eight days away.

ugh. I JUST started this thing, and I can't even keep up with it. Not that anyone is reading anyway, but hell. It's the 16th, and the last I wrote, the ONLY time I wrote was eight days ago. Hey. Eight is my lucky number. Maybe this is a good thing? Anyway. We've been spending the days sick here in the household, so everyone is good and miserable. The old man works outside roofing, and he'll probably never get better, and the chuds and I are just getting over it. Well, Chloe and I. Ness is just now getting it. I thought for sure I'd get lucky and he wouldn't get sick, but wow. I was sadly mistaken. The poor little booger is passed out in his crib right now for that much needed nap he's been waiting for and refusing to take all day.

I need moustache pictures. Yeah. Moustache pictures.