My evening in gerund phrases

Yes, folks, it is 1:22 a.m. Here is a summary of the last two hours:

Fighting the flu disturbs even the soundest sleeper, especially a little boy who has misplaced his favorite lovey.

Fretting over a sick baby keeps a mommy from accomplishing anything.

Barking dogs do not encourage friendliness in your neighbors.

Spying a giant rat in the eves of her back porch can really lead a girl to question the family policy banning firearms.

Pooping on the laundry room floor is an effective tactic by which the passive-aggressive dog may protest his banishment from the end of the bed.

Cleaning up dog poop in the middle of the night scores serious brownie points with the ladies.

Screaming at the top of your lungs quickly alerts everyone in the house (and the neighborhood) that you are dreaming about bugs, especially the flying variety.

Tucking little ones into bed may be one of the greatest joys of motherhood.

Taking your own temperature is the first step toward admitting that after three weeks of nursing your kids through first flu A and then flu B, your own luck may finally have run out.

Obsessing over the grammatical flaws in the previous sentence reminds you that blogging should be fun. Fixing that sentence would not be fun; therefore, this entry is finished.