As a duly appointed deputy clerk, I had today off along with the rest of the county employees. I had promised Mom a trip to Nordstrom Rack and lunch at The Cheesecake Factory, so when the chance came to have lunch with an author friend in town from Baltimore, I had to pass.
I slept in until 7, which is the longest Little Miss Piggie Pie will let me sleep, then had my coffee, read a bit, noodled around on the computer, then got dressed and drove out to Hudson. Dad was working on an antique clock which he had inherited from his grandfather, and Mom was getting ready. Even though today is a no-mail day, Mom asked me to zip through the Post Office drive-through so she could mail some letters. We did so, and just before we got on the expressway, my intestines attacked me, and I wound up driving us both back to her house so I could wash my pants (beige, of course!).
No sooner was I in one of Mom's robes and feeling happy to have lost enough weight to fit in one and my pants in the washer than my stomach and guts started cramping. Mom gave me a Vanity Fair to read, I got myself a glass of ice water, Dad went back to bed and Mom went upstairs to work. By the time my pants were dry, I was not up to going shopping, let alone going shopping and out for lunch. Mom and I rescheduled for Sunday, and I came home and slept for the rest of the day.
4 comments:
Oy. I'm sorry, Jammies. I've come just close enough to such funtimes to be able to be properly sympathetic.
Thanks. I'm sure it will be funny in a year or so.
I could be snarky, but I don't think I should be snarky. It isn't funny, but yet it is, but no it isn't. In fact, it's only funny at all because it didn't happen to me, therefore I know it isn't funny because it happened to you.
What have you done to piss off your internal flora anyway? Am I gonna have to force feed you yogurt? Or did your coffee kick in too early?
Either way, take care of yourself.
It seems to have been fleeting, thankfully. *crosses toes*
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