downhomechunk

I posted a picture of my little girl playing the slots yesterday. We had actually just come from an immediate care place. We told them she was starting a new UTI/kidney infection. She just got out of the hospital less than 2 weeks ago and has previous history with this problem.

These infections go from zero to 100. She'll go from no fever to 106+ in under an hour. So we were desperate for some help yesterday. The doctor listened to our story, looked at the chart, and decided she was fine.

Today we're back in the ER with another runaway infection. We came because we couldn't control the fever that blew up out of nowhere. She's being admitted and will be here for several days. We are exhausted and disheartened.

She was up $0.80 at one point, but chose to reinvest her winnings into more spins. This proved to be a strategic blunder, though, as she walked away penniless and disheartened about 15 seconds later.

What are you dads doing today?

I'll go first:

The Mrs found a local restaurant who are hosting a kids new years eve party at 3pm. We have reservations, there will be a meal, countdown, ball drop, the works. My 4 yo daughter is PUMPED! (We are too).

This is a fad I'm glad I tried. Just sprinkle some of your rub (or ranch powder in this case, because "ope") and throw it on some tin foil next to your meat for the last 2 -3 hours. It's an easy crowd pleaser and delicious with Ritz crackers.

My wife had to open the windows to let some heat out. This is why we can't afford to start a college fund.

It doesn't get much more Midwestern than this

I finally have a purely hypothetical answer to a question that's been gnawing at me for a couple years. Why is there a plunger outside on my back deck?

Well, what if a squirrel got itself stuck trying to crawl under your chain link fence, died and went unnoticed until it started to smell? Let's say at the time this squirrel was discovered, something had eaten it's face off down to the skull. A blunt handled instrument like a plunger for prodding said decaying, putrid squirrel out of the fence could really come in handy. That's at least until you start trying to put some muscle behind trying to release it. You're trying not to look straight at it because stuff is oozing out of it when, suddenly, its tail brushes against the skin on the top of your foot, because you're of course wearing sandals. That footwear choice was made during a simpler time when the only thing on your to do list was running the garbage and recycling out to the cans in the alley. Your senses being already heightened, the reaction you have to the tickling on your foot causes you to jerk the plunger in a manner which you would not otherwise have done. This movement severs the squirrel's exposed skull from the rest of its corpse. It is in this moment that you question the futility of your existence, poke the skull into the bag with the rest of the squirrel, run it out to the city garbage can, and finally return the plunger to its natural habitat on the deck where it will lie in wait until it is again called upon to provide assistance in some future ghastly task.

Again, this is purely hypothetical.