Holy crap, I thought this day would never come!
Freddie Bill started feeling weird on Saturday morning and by Saturday night was permanently camped out on our couch asking me to kill him. Move to Sunday - he slept all day long. At one point I asked him to keep one eye on our darling son. I returned 3 minutes later to find Fred snoring and Elliot crawling under the bathroom sink. Bad Daddy.
This began what I like to call the "I'm married to a deadbeat drunk living on our basement couch" phase. Meant lovingly, of course, it was a long 4 days of having him in the house but not even awake enough to help out with Elliot. (Monday he was diagnosed with Influenza B.)
I survived. Elliot survived. And there are now signs that Fred will survive.
Oh - and our email is back.