Not only was my brother violently projectile vomiting, contaminating the whole down stairs of my house...My mother caught the sickness, and then BOOM, my sister (12yrs) who was SLEEPING IN MY ROOM ONE DAY AGO...Came home and added her puke into the mix. Now we have two infested zombies in the living room...When I got home from work yesterday, the house was pitch dark, there was plastic wrap around all the front door windows (so it really looked like we were being contained) and when I walked in, there was a zombie on the chair sleeping, and another one wrapped up in blankets on the other couch...I quickly pull my jacket over my face to block any buggies from getting in, grabbed the Lysol and hand sanitizer and then I hear a "aarrhhhhhhgahggh" so I started moving quicker...hurry Kelsey HURRY before they wake!!! I hear a faint and mumbled "mmm Kelsey...? Is that you?" NOO I've awoken the undead!! "Can you get me my cup of gingerale?" Quick, run upstairs and pretend you never heard anything!! "Kelsey????" "Please I'm dying.." SHIT. Ok. I grabbed the disease-cup and poured a bit of gingerale and brought it back into the living room to my mom, of course with my mouth covered and ran off as quickly as possible. Got to my room, realized my sister had been residing in there earlier in the day, then took the Lysol can and unleashed it onto everything in my room until I could barely breath properly because I was eating Lysol at that point. Okay, I think i'm safe.
Damon is now feeling 99% better but still not eating in fear of it coming back up, but running around like a demon child should be. The only ones who have not been contaminated, my father, my brother Clayton (15) and myself. Light a few candles for us.
Dad and I went to Mexican food for dinner, we figured it would be best to stay away from the house as long as possible. As we were eating nachos for appetizers, something dawned on him. Dad: "Okay, I will buy you dinner under one condition..." Me: "Whats that??" Dad: "NO DOUBLE DIPPING, in case one of us is actually contaminated...just to be safe." Me: "uhh...I think I might have already double dipped...and I think you have too..." Dad: " WHAT?!?!?! WHY did you do that!?" Me: " Well, you could of declared that before we are already are half way done with the basket of nachos and salsa..."
We get home and go through the back door, because that's the safest entrance into the contamination zone. We both realize that we really have to pee. I look at my Dad in jealously, "it's not fair that I can't pee outside like you, both bathrooms are contaminated." I have no where to pee. I have no where to shower. I feel like I am living in a true life zombie infested world. This is just great. Cooper jumps up and licks my face. You stupid dog, I wish I was you more than anything right now. Why don't dogs get the flu? Can we switch bodies for 48 hours? Then I realize how terrible that could be...Cooper isn't the brightest dog on the planet...I look at Jake in question, maybe you, I'll switch with you? Then he started to chew his ass. Could be worse. My Dad was finding extreme humor in the conversations I was having with my dogs and trying to convince them to switch bodies with me.
At least i'm not a zombie.
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