Dad's Sick

As of yet, we don't know what ails my good father. We just know the symptoms include repeated visits to the Necessary Room and the occasional bucket. Yesterday he had thought he was doing better and went into work. Today, however, his infliction has given him what-for over that temerity. And how.

My father, being the big hearted man that he is, has decided to share his condition with the rest of the family. I have avoid misery to a point, but today I find myself on hurried trips. My queasy stomach has yet given fruit to nastiness, but I wouldn't be surprised if it did in the near future.

Hi ho.

Now, I have no hard evidence that this is the case, but we were all perfectly well before Brother Eric returned to town. Almost depressingly healthy, in fact. That his presence has, in short order, caused the specter of Plague upon our family does suggest certain possibilities. Which is why, from here out, I might be calling him Typhoid Eric, or Montezuma Eric. Or Eric, Bearer of Dread Sickness, the Dirty Rat.

Whichever rolls off the tongue.

Anyhoo, all of this babbling is to inform the good readers out there that I might not be posting as constantly as I had been...

Wait. I haven't been posting that regularly.

Nevermind then.

Gotta go. Hurriedly.