Sick humour

I've been up half the night writhing in agony and vomiting out some hideous poison or another.

I feel horrendous.

Here's what my Dad had to say about me being ill (last week).

'Sorry you're poorly and I wish you well. My plan when we had you was that you would be the perfect being - beautiful, bright, resourceful, athletic, graceful, and of perfect health. So you've kind of been a bit of a letdown on the perfect health front, but you can't have everything'.

Good job I get his humour.