Not sure what is going on, but for the second time in two weeks we have found ourselves down for the count for twenty four hours, using the toilet bowl from the wrong end of our bodies.
We were forced to make the housetruck into a makeshift infirmary with a mattress on the ground to give us equal access to the puke bucket.
After a day in bed and a kind delivery of soda water and saltines from Baywatch Kyle, we are feeling nearly 100%.
The culprit? Raw strawberries from our garden (we think).
Out the mouth, I'm tired of you.
You are not welcome in our house(truck). Please go away.
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1 comment:
I think the technical ter is actually "Out da mouf" and is said with your lower lip pouting profusely! I hope you are both back to normal!
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