[#024] man it's been one hell of a 2015 and we're only four days in. On New Year's Day (or technically the 2nd, since it was around 1:30am), my brother's 13-year-old chocolate lab Rocky that they've had since he was an adoptable puppy died in his arms. Rocky's had some complications for the past year, and things weren't looking too good for him by the end of 2014.
We were all together at my parents house, so Rocky got to see the rest of us under one roof one last time and decided it was time pass on (all dogs go to heaven). My brother and his wife buried Rocky in their backyard early the next morning before my nephew woke up.
Our first night wasn't easy either. For us, it was vomit. Lots and lots of projectile vomit. Poltergeist vomit. We made the mistake of giving our baby girl some turkey meat from finger-sandwiches at my parents' house earlier that day, and her stomach didn't agree with it. She filled the crib with puke and screamed bloody murder until we woke up and got to her. After cleaning her off, we took her to our bed and she snuggled up to me. Just as I was starting to doze off again, I watched her sit up and make a face. From deep within her soul came Round 2 Puke, fire-hosing out onto the sheets. My wife went to go clean her off and change her yet again. I pulled the sheets off the bed and we agreed that they would go snuggle on the sofa. I went into a coma and learned the next morning that she puked twice more on the living room.
It does't stop there, though. Yesterday, my wife was puking on and off in the bathroom. She's almost well enough to go back to work tomorrow, but she doesn't really have a choice so she's going back to work tomorrow.
My kid is going to be walking soon. Time to nail down everything in the house!
I'm feeling good from these really strong rum balls I ate. Happy effin' 2015.