Birthday oops

Here’s what happens when you bitch about your birthday cake:

The next year you don’t get one.

OMG, my fellow inebriates, this just happened to me today! Seven years old…and silence from the family. I think they forgot.

This is definitely a Birthday Fail.

Or it would be, but my parents felt bad, so now we’re drinking a Cab! (Within minutes incoherence will set in, so let’s save the review for tomorrow.)

In the meantime, these pics make my family’s oversight seem much less egregious than it did earlier…

Tomorrow we’ll talk about the benefits of alcohol for the stomach flu…

Everyone here has some sort of plague. It’s the fastest-moving bug ever…Dad started barfing yesterday afternoon; three hours later P painted the bedroom floor (six times). By the time Dad was well enough to help her, Mum was yakking in the toilet. We thought V had escaped it when she woke up chipper and asked to go to school—then promptly tossed her cookies.

The kids are almost recovered but our parents look like they’re going to die. So if the blog doesn’t come back (ora thee typeinggg issliekthis), that’s what’s happened.

The World According to an Alcoholic