Like Sigourney Weaver wielding her make-shift flamethrower against a malevolent extraterrestrial creature in the 1979 sci-fi film Alien, I have armed myself with bleach water and sponges against the evil stomach flu that has attacked my family. I’ve also smeared black eye liner under my eyes and tied a ripped bandana around my forehead Rambo- style, so the virus knows I mean business. Every time bodily fluids are expelled (at force) over sheets, the bathroom floor, or the toilet, I grimace and mutter, “Eat this, you bastard,” while destroying the microscopic alien flu virus with my lethal bleach concoction. I am only minutes away from going completely McGyver and turning the Lysol canister into a flame thrower. (Actually, I saw on Mythbusters that using aerosol cans as flame throwing devices usually results in explosions, so children? Do not try that at home.)
The Super Bowl party we had planned for Sunday has been officially cancelled. Our guests need to save themselves. Meanwhile, I? Am going in. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find me, then maybe I can help you…I am A-Mom.
(Bonus points for anyone else who can combine 80’s trivia with fighting the flu.)
Actually, I've also glued on a fake mustache, started sporting hawaiian print shirts, and driving a red Ferrari 308 GTS so I can go incognito in my quest to save the world from flu. Below is a home video. The fake chest hair? Itchier than one would have thought. (And you thought I would be Higgins, didn't you?)
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2 comments:
I'm sorry. Did you post something? I was watching the intro for "Street Hawk."
Didn't you watch War of the Worlds when the common flu virus killed the aliens?
Sorry you guys have to endure the virus but someone has to keep the virus going. Better you than me.
word verif: lahduch
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