pointless whiny fun. [subtitle: salmonella or food poisoning?]
I am thankful it is not the flu, but I am not thankful that it is here. I don't know what I ate or when, but pretty much everything I eat or drink goes right through me (we have yet to see what happens after I am done drinking this disgusting yellow Powerade... I implored my husband via text to buy me some Gatorade that does NOT look or taste like unicorn pee). I also threw up all of my crackers and soup that I ate for dinner last night about 2 hours after consuming them.
Kittens entered the bathroom, seemingly concerned (or at least curious)... When I turned around at the end of it (undoubtedly looking highly disheveled and in need of both a bath and a snuggle), they were both looking at me with wide, golden kitty eyes, almost like they were saying, "Mom? Mom? Why you hug toilet? Why you make hairball noises on toilet? Why you make hairball noises but no have hairball? Why you sit on waterbox room floor and not on soft, comfy bed with us, your loveable, dark-chocolate-covered bundles of purr and unshakeable adoration?"
They are so cute. Food poisoning is not cute, but somehow I have turned this TMI entry into something I find amusing through the magical use of kitty prose.
Admittedly, I use kitty prose regularly. Out loud. I also use baby prose and other cute-things prose. Keith does it, too. It involves seeing said cute thing doing something ridiculously adorable and immediately voicing said cute-thing's thoughts. It kind of reminds me of "Honest Toddler," but without the incongruously advanced vocabulary and grammar use.
Kittens entered the bathroom, seemingly concerned (or at least curious)... When I turned around at the end of it (undoubtedly looking highly disheveled and in need of both a bath and a snuggle), they were both looking at me with wide, golden kitty eyes, almost like they were saying, "Mom? Mom? Why you hug toilet? Why you make hairball noises on toilet? Why you make hairball noises but no have hairball? Why you sit on waterbox room floor and not on soft, comfy bed with us, your loveable, dark-chocolate-covered bundles of purr and unshakeable adoration?"
They are so cute. Food poisoning is not cute, but somehow I have turned this TMI entry into something I find amusing through the magical use of kitty prose.
Admittedly, I use kitty prose regularly. Out loud. I also use baby prose and other cute-things prose. Keith does it, too. It involves seeing said cute thing doing something ridiculously adorable and immediately voicing said cute-thing's thoughts. It kind of reminds me of "Honest Toddler," but without the incongruously advanced vocabulary and grammar use.