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| The kid and her cousins |
The kid and I spent Monday afternoon with my sister and her kids. My sister lives on a farm and owns chickens, goats, etc. I had two traumatic incidents that day. First traumatic incident: I witnessed chicken sex. I was following my sister around as she fed her goats. Suddenly, one of her chickens came running through at full speed and dove under a nearby bush. A rooster was right on her heels, flying (well, sprinting really fast) after her like his tail feathers were on fire. He dove under the same bush, threw himself on top of the lady, and then pinned her down. My sister said, "Oh, now you've seen chicken sex." It was already over, though (apparently it doesn't take long for sweet love to be made when it comes to our feathered friends). I found it all a bit troubling, though. It was like the original wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. I mean, he didn't buy her a glass of wine or compliment her shoes or anything.
Later, after we went out to lunch and then let the kids play at a park for a while (it was 70+ degrees outside), we went back to the farm. I was sitting on the couch watching Dr. Phil. My younger nephew (age two) took the opportunity to take off his diaper and air out his business. I was fine with that. However, moments later the little guy climbed up behind me and hugged me around the neck.
"Um, I'm not sure how I feel about my nephew pressing his manhood against my back," I confessed to my sister. That was traumatic incident number two.
Later, A and I headed back to my mom's house. I made the kid some popcorn before bed. She had been feeling a little iffy and handed the still-full bowl back to me a few minutes later. Not wanting it to go to waste, I added a bit of butter and sat down to eat it myself. You know me - waste not, want not. Then my mom roasted some pecans (she has a pecan tree out front). I was stuffed, but couldn't resist grabbing a few of the warm, buttery nuts. I only ate a couple before my stomach advised me that I was done. I went to bed soon thereafter.
I woke up a couple hours later. "Hey," I thought, "I'm cold. But also sweating." Moments later, I was hunched over the toilet as the popcorn and nuts exited my stomach at high velocity. (TMI! Sorry!) I crawled back into bed, continued the sweating/freezing routine, and eventually hurled twice more. Good times. I thought of one of my favorite Brian Regan routines, where he goes to the hospital with a severe stomach ailment. When asked, "What seems to be the problem?" he responds, "Well, it seems like my insides . . . want to be on the outside."
On Tuesday morning, I woke up slowly and thought I might be okay. I got up, took a shower, and took the kid to the store to get her a new Barbie DVD (because God knows you can never have enough of THOSE). By the time we got back to my mom's house, I realized I had not rebounded after all. I spent the rest of the day on the couch watching Judge Judy (Mom had lots of episodes on the ol' DVR). I momentarily pondered the idea of rallying and taking the kid to see the Megamind movie, but the thought of entering an establishment whose primary form of revenue involves popcorn was more than I could bear. Eventually I gave up on wanting to be conscious at all and went to bed, leaving my mother to deal with her granddaughter (who would, I'm told, spend the rest of the evening demanding to watch the Barbie movie, play Pretty Pretty Princess, play Don't Spill the Beans, and so forth). By Wednesday morning, I felt mostly human again. I was afraid to eat (and still am, for the most part) but managed to have a fun day at the science museum in Oklahoma City with my sister, her kids, a friend of mine, and her kids.
I was disappointed to lose a day of vacation to illness, but was glad I had the luxury of lounging around until I felt better. At first I thought maybe I'd just eaten too much fatty stuff (I have no gall bladder and technically, I'm supposed to stick with low fat foods, which I typically do) but later realized it was probably a virus, as my mom started feeling like poop the next day (and the kid has felt iffy off and on for a couple of days). Anyway, I'm looking forward to enjoying the last few days of my vacation, preferably puke-free. I can't help but shed a tear over the fact that I'll never be able to eat popcorn or roasted nuts again. Or even say any of those words out loud. Speak of them never.
I was disappointed to lose a day of vacation to illness, but was glad I had the luxury of lounging around until I felt better. At first I thought maybe I'd just eaten too much fatty stuff (I have no gall bladder and technically, I'm supposed to stick with low fat foods, which I typically do) but later realized it was probably a virus, as my mom started feeling like poop the next day (and the kid has felt iffy off and on for a couple of days). Anyway, I'm looking forward to enjoying the last few days of my vacation, preferably puke-free. I can't help but shed a tear over the fact that I'll never be able to eat popcorn or roasted nuts again. Or even say any of those words out loud. Speak of them never.