First of all, what is this?

Maybe that reflection is hindering you from fully grasping the situation. Let's move over slightly and try again:

Any ideas? Does working at Radio Shack cause it's employees to put their arms behind their head in a relaxed manner, and then shriek in gleeful anticipation of ringing up twenty-five feet of phone wire and an iPod charger? Because that's what this is saying to me. I see this poster every time I go to the donut shop by the Albertson's and it freaks me out a little bit every time.

In other news, I am on day fouteen of this weird flu/upper respiratory thing, and last night I coughed so hard that I not only brought up a rounded tablespoonful of masticated broccoli but I appear to have separated my diaphragm. Really, I can't take a deep breath without clutching my entire midsection and doubling over in pain. So that's fun, but what's really nasty is that Jackson has a rousing case of impetigo all over his butt. (Do not do a Google image search for impetigo unless you want to see some seriously crusty children.) His pediatrician prescribed some cream and two oral antibiotics, which really impressed the phramacist. One of the oral medications is an old sulfa-based drug that hasn't been used since World War I, according to the doctor, but with so many infections becoming antibiotic resisant they've found that some of the older medicines are working again because the bugs don't recognize them. Fortunately, we've made great strides in battlefield medicine, because now it comes in grape flavor.