New Year's Eve was in all its glory at our house. At midnight, there were neighborhood fireworks that woke up the kids (I'm now one of those grumps who is mad at any celebration that extends past 10 p.m.). But it wasn't the fireworks outside that really stirred things up. And fireworks weren't the only thing exploding around here right around midnight.
The culprit. Gastroenteritis. More commonly known as the stomach flu.
The hapless victim.
The helpless bystander.
The results. An overworked laundry machine, the first household shower of 2010, and a ginger ale party in the wee hours.
Anybody else get puked on on New Year's?
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