THRILLWAUKEE, PART ONE: I don't post much of late, but this seems like a good time to sling one out there into the ethers.

We had this big plan this weekend, where our maniac family and a few other maniac families were gonna head up to the Milwaukee Hilton and exploit the waterpark therein. Slides. Hot tubs. Zero-depth mayhem. Trouble was when we woke up this morning Licky was a sinus-addled mess, and C.J. was a grump. No matter. We forged ahead, even reserving a second, adjoining room so that Licky would have his own dark crib-room to mewl and puke in (reference, anyone?) as he pleased. Alas, that all changed when, near noon, C.J. clutched his tummy, screamed "Poopies are coming fast!" and stormed up the stairs to unleash rampant diahrrhea. "I want to go to bed right now," he cried, clutching his belly. "My bottom has a bug in it."

And so he literally put himself to bed, climbing in under the covers and racing off to dreamland in record time.

It seemed like all was lost then, Eileen's new Marshalls' discount suit all for naught.

Oh, shit, the pizza's here. To be continued.