I don't know what's going on. This is twice now, just this year. I think I may have caught a whiff of whatever was making Yuula puke back down in Georgia. I don't really throw up (unless there's mass quantities of eggnog involved (mainly because it's extra gross)) but I felt like there was a tiny Chupacabra clawing its way out of my stomach. Nothing a good day of sleep couldn't cure. When I felt better Laura yelled at me. She's a good wife.
during visiting hours
And we got some snow, but nothing to write home about, or even blog about,
but apparently I just did.
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