I should have known better. But I was frazzled, discombobulated.
You see, we were going to go to a Chinese Buffet last night. But when we got to where we thought it was, it wasn't. Well, there was a Chinese restaurant, but it wasn't a buffet. So we were back to square one: " Do you want to eat there anyway?" "Not really- it looks blah." "Where do you want to go?" " I don't know- where do you want to go?" "Subway." I didn't want to go to Subway. I wasn't in the Subway mood. It got so we were in this whirling vortex of indecision and I was irritated. Brad was fine - but I was gritchy. So I randomly picked this Mexican restaurant that was in the same plaza. And I thought, " This is probably going to be awful. We're probably going to get sick." I have these vagrant thoughts often and I guess I'm sort of innoculated to them; thus I don't always pay them mind. And being irritated and indecisive, the prevailing mood was just sort of like: PICK A PLACE AND EAT ALREADY! So we just went. And it was mediocre. Oh well. Now we know where NOT to go, I thought. We went on to have a pleasant evening at Nate and Pen's.
I awoke around 3:00 this morning and noticed right away that Brad was breathing strangely. Sort of a puffing pant. I asked if he was okay. He said no. Apparently, he had been throwing up. Oh my word. Guilt descended on me like the apple on Newton's head. The Mexican restaurant! That vagrant thought was my intuition trying to warn me! Oh my word, I felt so bad. The pathetic thing was, Brad had gone downstairs to throw up so he wouldn't disturb me! He said he was trying to throw up...QUIETLY. How is that accomplished? I didn't ask. It was so sweet and pitiful. I just felt so terrible and guilty that he was the one suffering for my arbitrary decision. So we were up for a couple of hours riding out the queasiness together.
At my urging, he decided to use the master bath for his subsequent offerings. For Pete's sake! What's the point of having a master bath if you're just going to rush downstairs when you really need it?! I mean- I do appreciate the sentiments, but...now that I'm awake...Once, as he rushed off, he bid me to plug my ears. Even with my ears plugged, I could hear loud, almost musical groanings and other strange noises, unpleasant in the extreme.
Of course, there was no ginger ale in the house. I did find some saltines, luckily.
We watched part of a "Brady Bunch." I read a chapter aloud from "Ramona Quimby, Age 8." We talked about our third and fourth grade experiences. As we compared notes, we uncovered a strange piece of trivia: we both had the same teacher for our respective third and fourth grades. He had Mrs. Jones, and I had Mrs. Roland for both those years. I finally went back to sleep around 5 a.m. and caught a few more hours of sleep.
Brad felt better enough to go to church this morning. What an overcomer. Most of his appetite has returned, I am glad to report.
Brad says that I have to include something about how I was a dear, otherwise he would not allow this post to go to press. Well, I may be somewhat of a dear, but I'm a sadder and wiser dear, and one who is not going to go making any rash decisions or try ANYTHING NEW or eat at ANY Mexican places for a long time. Actually, we have decided to embark on a new culinary journey- we're going to try to eat vegetarian for one week and see if we survive...so I guess I shouldn't say I'm not going to try anything new...( We'd talked about doing this before the events of last night...) Send me your vegetarian recipes, please!