Friday, February 3, 2012

Is my cooking really that bad?

While the Catholic blosphere blows up about Obamacare and Komen, I sit at home waiting for other things to blow.  Namely people. 

Early this morning, I heard my husband talking.  I thought it was his usual bout of insomnia, rolled over, and went back to sleep.  Until 6 am, when I heard clear across the house the manliest of upchucking I have ever heard.  And that is saying much since I lived with my dad and my brother for many years.

"Don't make fun of me."  Hubby says.  "I wasn't.  I was being serious.  For a guy who was puking his guts out, you did it loud and proud.  I almost wanted to get up and ask you if my cooking was really all that bad.  I mean you had to make it obvious." 

It was so loud that it woke the baby up too.

Anyways...Hubby slept his life away because apparently he didn't sleep at all last night because of this stomach bug.  And I joked that I would be next.  Which really isn't funny because unlike other members of the house, I don't stop once I get going.  Not even if all that's coming up is water or bile.

Hopefully the baby won't get it either.  I imagine that would be a trip to the ER.

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