Overheard

Overheard at 2:30 in the morning.

Henry, standing in our bedroom. "I guess I was wrong. I DID have to throw up again."

"I HATE being wrong"

Yeah, it was an awesome night.
It was mostly awesome for Jeff, who cleaned up two pools of vomit while I lay in bed and tried to ignore what was happening around me.

Me and throw up=Not friends

And in case I seem like a complete wuss, I did rub his back while he threw up in the toilet this morning.

The end.