My poor sweet LB just can't seem to catch a break. First she got tossed about in the car accident, then she got a nasty stomach virus, and now she has an upper respiratory virus. In an attempt to be more empathetic I am trying to concentrate on her being my poor, sweet, pitiful sick girl and not the whiny brat who has passed on her funk to the rest of the family. Which ever way I look at it though, it has meant a string of cancellations for things we had planned to host. Can you say SUCK?
The latest thing to bite the dust was our monthly dinner gathering wherein we were hosting Mardi Gras night. To say I was psyched about this would be an understatement. I picked February solely because I wanted to do a Mardi Gras theme. I had planned a Bloody Mary Bar and was going to make vats of Hurricanes and a King Cake. I had beads! And masks! So canceling made me sad. Very sad. Knowing how disappointed I was, my husband sent me the following politically incorrect e-mail (an e-mail which reminded me that yes, I am married to the right man):
I’m sorry about having to cancel. I know you were looking forward to it. Maybe we can take the one in June and make it a South Africa World Cup theme. That way, we wouldn’t have to provide food.
Get it? Famine?
Try the veal. I’ll be here all week.
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