*This morning, as I was walking to my car to go to work, I puked out of nowhere. No extra-saliva warning. No sour stomach. No puke after brushing my teeth. I just bent over, splattered my breakfast across the parking lot and then went on my merry way. Ahh, pregnancy. Full of surprises. Anyway, that experience reminded me of this old story I hadn't yet posted. Enjoy!
written 5/23
Fun story: So, everything is an adventure when you're with child, I'm learning. What used to be a simple trip to the grocery store for a few items turns into a "what does baby want?" frenzy. Went in for Taco House dressing and ground beef. Came out with a bag of EL Fudge cookies, some pears, cream cheese, a package of bagels, a 2 liter of orange soda, cheese AND Taco House dressing and meat. See? The list goes out the window now that baby is here.
When browsing the meat counter for the best ground beef deal (for my husband since meat still sounded awful at the time), I knew the putrid seafood smell was going to get me good this time. And boy, did it! I was sure the lady couldn't have wrapped it in paper any s l o w e r. I (rudely) clawed my 1/2 lb of ground beef from her hands, didn't even say thanks, and got the heck outta there! But ah, there it was. That familiar feeling in the back of my throat. That sweet taste of saliva filling my mouth as if I were a dog salivating over a bone. Made it through the check out, breathing through my mouth, and counting down the seconds to fresh air! At last! I was in the clear. Loaded up my bags and sped away. But, as I was crossing the intersection (literally within walking distance to my house) I tasted that familiar saliva flooding up under my tongue. It was going to happen...I was going to vomit. Damn you, seafood! So, while trying to drive without getting in a wreck, I managed to grab the closest plastic bag and vigorously shake out all it's contents all over the passenger floorboard. As soon as the bag reached my drooly mouth, I heaved. WHILE DRIVING. It was terrifying. I slammed on my brakes, nearly causing the car behind me to plummet into my bumper and turned off into the nearest parking lot. There I sat, windows down and stomach juices a'flowing. It really was pitiful. And all I wanted to do was call Kevin. In my mind, somehow he'd make it better, he'd rescue me so I didn't have to drive, he'd make sure I was ok. After about 15 minutes (or what seemed like a lifetime) sitting in the parking lot, I got up the courage to drive the 1/4 mile home. Got there, left the groceries in the car and just walked my defeated, semi-puked-on self into my home, dropping the goods off in the garbage on my way. Kevin would be home soon and I couldn't let him see me like this.
He got the groceries and, as he was putting them away, I explained to him this story and how I was humiliated beyond words (and oh-so-thankful it didn't happen IN the store). He gave me a hug (asked if I had puke on myself first, of course) and then just laughed. He said it wouldn't be the last time and reassured me that it was ok. I am pregnant, after all.
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