"You're gonna feel a pinch."

Lord help me.

Morning kids. It's a squeamish Scrubbie here this morning.

Yes, m'darlin's - today is the day.

H1N1 shot today. Today. This afternoon. Only hours from now.

The Bro-In-Law, JR - ain't comin' with me.

The Wife - abandoned me.

The Kid - we're keepin him in school this aft instead of yanking him for the shot.

The Lunatic Dog - they wont do her.

I'm all alone.

Sigh.

Well - time to grow a pair. Buck up. Roll up the sleeve. And pass out like a man.

Wish me luck.

Ok - so my nephew Whogun stopped by Halloween night. The Bro-In-Law, JR brought the little fart over for a quick visit. See him there? With the Kid. Awwwwww. Cute, eh?

Like the background paper? Hop on over to my pal at Midnight Scrapping. Click away kids! Click away!

So - providing I survive the horror of this afternoon's shot in the arm... this weekend, 'da boys at Scrub's are all solo. That's right. The Wife and her gal pals are scrappin' outa town. It's a weekend affair too. Cartoons, chicken wings, pizza - here we come! WoooooooHooooooooo!

Alrighty - at this very moment - outside the window of Scrub's igloo - it is snowing.

Yes. That's right.

Snowing.

Frack.

This means, of course, that the Wife is gonna have to wrap her scrappin' stuff pretty good in plastic to survive the trip to her Scrappy weekend by dog sled. Wouldn't want all that paper gettin' wet, would we?