intestinal infestation

This blog is a place for me to lay down the happy stuff for keeps. It is not that I have a morbid sense that at any moment it could go belly up and in a haze of misery I will long for tales of the good old days. It is more an attempt to live in the present and see the happy in my days. And I have a lot of happy.

I also have a fair share of the horrors. But I choose not to blog them - I choose instead to deal with the horrors by sitting comatise with my head in my hands and a drink at the ready. Or when things are really bad - just going to bed and sleeping for twelve hours knowing that when I wake up something will have changed - even if it is only my level of tolerance for the horror. But blog it? Not a chance. So the result is a kind of skewed magical version of the life here at number 55. Which is lovely. But is only 7/8s of the pie.

Case in point - on Sunday I had this conversation with Sam...

Sam: Mum, why does it sometimes look like there are worms wriggling in your poo?
Me: What?
Sam: Well sometimes I look at my poo and it looks like there are worms in it.
Me: What?
Sam: They are white.
Me: 
Sam: And skinny.
Me:
Sam: They look like worms.
Me:
Sam: Mum?

Yep - that's the world here that doesn't get blogged. I tell you with authority that the top selling worm treatment "chocolate" coats your mouth in a way that can not be washed away with any amount of red wine.

I will also mention that in search of information I turned to Google. What has been seen can not be unseen.