Our weekend was a comedy of errors and I use "comedy" loosely...and perhaps I mean "bad juju" instead of "errors."
Thursday: Our beloved Friends Ben, Susan, Samuel and Jude come to visit and the washer breaks. Parishoner dies, meaning Paul will have to plan and do a funeral while our friends are here, on top of the already scheduled wedding.
Friday: Repair man "fixes" washer says it was "operator error", by which he means, "it was your fault, dummy." Oliver starts throwing up.
Saturday: I try to wash Oliver's bedding and whatnot, but the washer is not actually fixed. Leave message with repairman, but they won't call back until Monday, won't come out again until Tuesday even though I paid them $100 yesterday for a fix that didn't happen.
Sunday: Susan & I go to the laundry mat. Moses, Samuel and I start throwing up.
Monday: Paul sprains his ankle on the ice coming back from the funeral (on his day off, while friends are in town). Susan and Phoebe start throwing up. Ben goes to the laundry mat. Snow starts falling.
Tuesday: The morning flight out of Omaha is canceled. Ben feels nauseous. Our friends shakily drive off at noon hoping their evening flight will indeed fly out and they make a mental note never to visit the Dunbars again.
And I didn't even mention diarrhea.