The Oyster Flu

I hate to say this, since I'm starting to bore myself with this story, but we're sick again. Our trash cans are full of tissues and my pants are covered in snot. I don't think it's mine, but I'm not looking too closely.

This time, I'm not going to blame son Finn. I'm going to blame Grandpa Finn, who popped in over the weekend carrying authentic Ninja shirts from Japan and what I can only assume is the SARS. Try as we might, we couldn't kill the bug using the age-old remedy of oysters and alcohol, so we're now still holed up in bed.

Luckily, before the bird flu kicked in, we were able to enjoy the weekend with Grandpa and with additional surprise visitors Aunt Nicole & Uncle Keith. Not being idiots and knowing that their only shot at some oysters was to drag their butts up here, they popped in to "see their nephew".

Attached are pictures of Grandpa Finn teaching his grandson about electricity, and of Nicole & Rob fattening up the Ninja while Keith tries to describe the size gun I'm going to need to get the sock monkey and lederhosen boy out of the dead tree over my left shoulder.

Don't ask.