And not the good kind! Panda Express, my love and knife, gave me a healthy dose of fricking food poisoning. Never again, Panda. NEVER AGAIN. And for my Ecuas out there, Nunca mas jamas!
So, after barfing multiple times and laying on the bathroom floor, shaking and falling in and out of sleep (it was 2 a.m. and I was so, so tired! Why is it that the throw-ups never hit when you are well rested?) I was feeling angry that I had just cleaned the bathroom that day. And also, I was feeling grateful that I had just cleaned the bathroom that day! Being that close to a clean toilet is just so much better than the alternative. But, I knew that, being the germ-a-phobe that I am, I would be cleaning the bathroom again within the next twelve hours. I mean, I’m a clean person even when sick, but just in case. So, as I lay on the bathmat, reaching my hand up to wipe down the seat with a Clorox wipe, a new anger overtook me…
What a freaking waste of money!
Good to know that I am both neurotic and cheap even in the most dire of circumstances.
And then my poor Darby awakened and knocked on the bathroom door, asking, “Mom, can I come in?” That sweet little honey. No baby, no. You cannot come in.
Have you ever had food poisoning?