Hi FML!
Thanks for all the nice cards and stuff. Thanks Sukie; boy do you send a
lot of them. I'm much better now, and I hate to admit it, but dad even
helped a little bit.
Dad asked me to post this for him, and I hope I get in on the FML alright; I
have to copy it and send it and do whatever computer geek stuff he wants me
to do to get it to Bill. (Dads the Geek, Bill, not you) Anyway, dad was so
jeolous because of all the cards I got he decided to get sick himself. He
has this leaky thing where he got kicked by the dumb cow, and it sometimes
bleeds, and he went into the hospital Thursday to have some new blood put
in. I told him to ask for some from a young guy. He was riding his bike
(he claims it reduces stress, but I don't see how concidering the hills he
likes to ride up) and came in all white-faced and sweaty. Don't worry tho
because he's alright, even though he refuses to have the surgery to fix it
until after his semester is over. The doctor got mad, but dad just grins
and says not to argue because he will win. I don't think he wins, I just
think everyone else gives up.
Anyway, he thought the first part was important, but still added all the
other stuff. I just sat there, waiting for him to finish writing, listening
to him complain because he wasn't in his room with all the files. He said
that he was going to Nashville and St. Louis for some bone meetings, and
already had a full mailbox. Anyway, the thing about his stomach kind of
bugs him a little I think, even though he says the misquito bites in Alaska
were worse, so don't say I told you, ok? He never gets mad at me anyway,
but I like to drive his car. Now I have to find some number to a guy in
spain so dad can talk to him about polecats or something. What am I? A
slave or something? Bye
Elizabeth
PS: Oh yeah, dad should be home Saturday night or Sunday morning if anyone
want to yell at him besides me, but he's always grumpy after all those tubey
things in him, so he will probably sleep. Or go bike riding. Or argue. Or
do somthing geeky on his computer. (love ya dad!)
[Posted in FML issue 1887]
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