Close your eyes and think of THE MOST FUN THING that you can do at half-past midnight.
Did you come up with puking? No? Because that’s what happened to me last night.
I was the picture of health all day yesterday. I was Fine, with a capital F. I even had two chai teas, for the nutritional benefits. (As a side note, I think the British are way ahead of us when it comes to the afternoon spot o’ tea. It’s a habit I’m going to start embracing.)
Then, for whatever reason, I woke up at midnight. My very first thought was, “I don’t think I feel good.” I don’t know if it was the extreme nausea or the fact that I felt like I was holding my stomach at the base of my throat that tipped me off first, but by 12:30 this morning, I was clutching our toilet for dear life and unloading everything I’ve ever eaten since the third grade.
And. It. Would. Not. Stop.
At one point, the boy and his award-winning bedhead shuffled into my bathroom and quietly asked, “Mom? You’re not going to die, are you?”
At that moment, I really had no idea. I was wondering if an autopsy report has ever listed the cause of death as VOMITING.
(Probably. A good carnival can do that to a girl. But… I didn’t attend a carnival last night, nor did I have a big, fried funnel cake or a two-foot corndog.)
But, you will be happy to hear that I didn’t disturb Hubs IN THE LEAST. My Navy SEAL slept all night long, even though his master bathroom was filled with the sounds of a grizzly bear rupturing her own spleen with a homemade wooden mallet. He was so surprised to learn this morning that all of my important, internal organs had been flushed into the sewage system.
I have never felt safer in my own home.
By this morning, I felt like a full-grown cat who had gone through the EXTRA-RINSE WASH CYCLE in the Whirlpool, which is why Thing 2 and I spent our entire day laying low.
We wore our pajamas and watched tractor videos and train videos on You Tube. We watched alphabet videos, shape videos, color videos and number videos. We watched Taylor Swift videos, Matt Redman videos, and Mercy Me videos. We saw dump trucks, excavators, fork lifts, front-end loaders and monster trucks, all doing what they do best.
And that’s when we found the Teletubbies.
I have never understood the Teletubbies, but that could simply be because I’ve never invested any precious life moments into actually WATCHING them. But today, we partook of the four martians / aliens / brightly-colored-I-don’t-know-whats. Thing 2 was hooked and laughed like a happy baby in front of their show, while I simply felt like I needed to puke again. I’m not sure their videos are aimed at the sober demographic.
Anyway, I think I’ve recovered. I think I’ve managed to bounce back to the stage of being normal again. I’ve had three homemade chai teas today, because that’s honestly all that I thought my belly could handle.
The Teletubbies will do that to you.
Before I go, I have to show you that Hubs believes a boy is never too young to learn the art of building a solid fort. He and Thing 2 had a marvelous time together earlier this week, as they began wondering if they could get their mail at their new home.
Y’all have a happy weekend, and I’ll see you back here on Sunday evening.