Oh, God.
The first truly gorgeous weekend and I was sick for most of it. Ate some undercooked chicken on Thursday night (that I, um, undercooked) and by 4:00 a.m. I was visiting the bathroom pretty regularly with stomach poisoning. No work Friday, never got out of bed except for violent vomitting, and Matt waited on me hand and foot all weekend.
He kept trying to feed me, went out and bought me the strawberry/banana smoothies I love. After I had one, unfortunately, I sat up...and it came back up...on my sweatpants...which were really Matt's sweatpants. I took them off and told Matt I was heading back to bed. He eyed the pants and said, "Do we have any long tongs?" He kicked them all the way to the laundry room, and when he got there I heard him yell, "Hey - these are my sweats!"
Proof that I can still laugh with martian death flu.
Saturday I felt a little less pitiful and we took a walk on the Monon, then headed to my dad's for a barbeque...chicken! "Please God No!" I said, so they made me something more pleasing. That's about as high maintenance as I get.
Matt said, "Your dad is so philosophical...I could talk to him for hours." My dad gives such great insight on relationships, love, children, marriage. He's a sage with a huge heart, and I adore him.
The quads are getting ready to drive and they're applying for JOBS! The boys have steady girlfriends who hang out at the house all the time. Where did the time go, my babies?!
Tonight, Matt and I are heaing to Bella Vita for dinner, no poultry. We are living life in the slow lane, and it feels good.
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