The Record Is Broken

Yesterday, apparently, there was more at work than just my uncomfortable and impractical fashion choices.

I haven't thrown up since I was somewhere between a freshman and sophomore in high school, which was about 10 years ago. I was so proud of myself.

After I picked up Joey from DTS and slid over to the passenger's seat so he could drive home, I spent most of the time saying, "I feel so terrible, Joey. So terrible; it's the weirdest thing." I kind of stumbled into the house, yanked off my boots and flopped on the bed still in my itchy wool Lucy dress from work.

"I'm going to die. I can't make you dinner tonight, honey...I can't even think about food. Can you bring me some Calmicid?" I thought maybe, just maybe, an antacid would help me.

So I lay there kind of wiggling around and whining while Joey went to the kitchen to try to find himself something to eat. I had been planning to make turkey burgers, but the thought of raw meat was enough to...well, you know. I was starting to get bored of laying on my bed so I changed into loungies, got a book, and crawled under the covers.

My stomach continued to feel like it was going to explode. And my boredom was increasing fivefold...it seemed like a bad combination. So I took my pity-party out to the study where Joey was working on his MacGyver project for a class. (Yes, you read that correctly. Joey is analyzing MacGyver whether is an Idealist of Realist for his Christian Education class. Totally his own idea.)

"I feel terrible." I whined.

"Poor thing," Joey consoled me. "Maybe you're pregnant, you should go take a pregnancy test," he suggested a little bit too cheerfully.

"No, this is obviously not morning sickness, it's like 7:30 at night. Besides, I'm not pregnant." I pouted.

"Maybe. But then you've never been exactly normal in the first place, so maybe you'll have evening sickness instead of morning sickness. Want to watch my MacGyver clips?" His logic was confusing me.

MacGyver made me feel slightly better for about 2 minutes. Joey came and sat on the floor in front of my chair giving me a strange, sickly, boxed-in feeling.

"Um, I think you should move. I mean, what if I have to throw up or something and you're blocking me in like this?"

"Just tell me to move and I'll move," Joey said logically.

Suddenly: "MOVE!!!" I said urgently and ran off to the bathroom.

I did my bathroom thing. It was extremely unpleasant, but not as unpleasant as I've spent the last 10 years thinking it would be. And as I was brushing my teeth I realized that Joey and Henry had been sitting outside the door the entire time to "make sure I was OK".

How awkward.

"I broke my record," I said dismally as I exited the bathroom. Joey was sitting on the floor looking concerned and ashen. Henry had no clue what was going on.

"I know, I heard," Joey replied.

"That's real disgusting that you did that," I said. "It's quite uncomfortable to know you have an audience for such things."

Joey assured me that he only wanted to make sure I didn't die or some such silliness. I flopped back onto the couch and then said, "Can we go get a new toothbrush?"