Fverishly hot date

Last week, Bill and I had a babysitter lined up. At the last minute, I had to cancel. Petey was throwing up.

{This reminds me of a similar situation years ago. Bill and I were going to a formal event that was hours away from our house. One of the boys got sick that day – high fever. Bill went alone. At the event, someone inquired about me, and Bill explained the situation. The person seemed confused as to why a sick child would prevent my coming. I’m still confused about their confusion.}

Today, Bill and I have a babysitter lined up. Dinner. Grocery shopping (hey, we’re an old married couple, grocery shopping is romantic…and necessary).

Last night, I told Bill that nobody was allowed to get sick. If they got sick, I would simply have to kill them. Dead bodies require less maintenance than live, sick bodies.

This morning, Bill wasn’t looking very good. He expressed fear for his life – he’s feeling a bit sick.

I don’t care if he has to excuse himself to go to the bathroom to vomit. We’re going out.

Fortunately, he’s not throwing up. Yet.

If he’s too sick to eat, we’ll save money, right?

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