Germ warfare

TheBloke (TM) came home last night to be greeted by the words, "There's a dead pigeon on the lawn with your name on it."

Perhaps it was something I said, but the next thing I knew, he was pushing past me, running up the stairs to the bathroom, and then making noises that can only be described as simultaneous vomiting and shitting.

The baby helped by punctuating this with random screams for no good reason.

Monty Cat sat on the top stair and licked his cat lips.  He'd caught a pigeon.  He'd had dinner.  He'd stolen some of the baby's melon (who knows why?).  He'd slept upside down in the conservatory for at least three hours.  Monty was having a good day.

So yes, TheBloke (TM) has now been struck down by the same bug we've all had, and as I've stupidly turned the corner, this means I'm now in charge of dirty nappies and doling out chicken soup.  Most of the time, I even remember to wash my hands between those two tasks.  Most of the time.

Still, give him his due, TheBloke (TM) did indeed dispose of the dead pigeon.  Though our lawn still looks like a pillow-stuffing company.

Anyone want to buy a third-hand ginger cat?