Erin is home recovering from norovirus. If you know me at all, you know that this means that I won’t be sale-ing with her anytime soon. Contracting that is essentially my worst nightmare. Next time we see each other, I’ll probably insist that she wear a mask and rubber gloves for the duration of the excursion.
In her place will be my mom, which should be fun and interesting. I hope she’s prepared to dig through those posters and elbow some housewives to get to that E.T. doll. Did you see him? It’s like “Where’s Waldo?” up in that pile.
-Sarah