Early Saturday morning, we had some uninvited, very unwelcome houseguests.
Let’s call them Sam and Ella, shall we?
Yeah, they are rude like that.
They show up at 2:30, unannounced.
Producing stabbing stomach pains, projectile vomiting.
They also, part of the time, induce what my brother calls, “A Full Body Evacuation.”
That basically means that all fluids currently housed in your body, rush,
simultaneously for the nearest exit.
Mr. Smith needed to go to the ER for IV fluids.
I just did the running while vomiting trick last night.
Because what you want to do after projectile vomiting is mop your bathroom floor, right?!!
Oh yeah, while Mr. Smith and I desperately tried to sleep, the sheriff was flying over the area for 5 1/2 flippin’ hours searching for someone from their black helicopter. I figure if someone is THAT lost, they don’t really want to be found, right?
It isn’t a Smith party until someone requires IV fluids!
As my brother also says, “We aren’t leavin’ til we’re heavin'”
Whatever you do, don’t let Sam and Ella in your house!
They are impossible to get rid of once they are in the damn place!
Post Edit: I forgot to mention that in my dehydrated fugue, I neglected to close Archie’s crate door. He decided the whole helicopter thing was something that required The Chief of Hamland Security. When he left our room to secure the perimeter, he flung our bedroom door wide open. Mr. Smith and I assumed it was H, since that is his usual tactic for waking us up. Nope, just the trusty dog.
So, poor Mr. Smith slept (fitfully at best) in the LazyBoy. I slept (off and on due to the strike force buzzing the neighborhood) in the bed.
I think Sam and Ella are the only ones that enjoyed themselves. The bastards.