Here’s a quick rundown of the past three days.
Monday: I took a personal day off of work. Several things needed to be done, but naturally they could only be done during business hours, and I work full-time, and I have a baby who MUST NAP immediately after school or else she turns into something like this:
OH OKAY, not really. Baby Girl is far too delicate to turn into a Naptime Kraken. But sometimes, SHE GETS CLOSE.
So anyway, I took a personal day Monday, found out the “oil leak” in my car was not, in fact, an oil leak at all, but rather a protective layer of an oil-like substance that can masquerade as an oil leak to the layperson. So there you go.
I took care of several other things Monday and was feeling pretty good about life. I even had a pimento cheese sandwich for lunch, and let me just tell you right now, pimento cheese is a LUXURY around these parts. I mean, I don’t pimento casually. In fact, I only pimento about once a year.
Or rather, I did pimento once a year . . . before the Great Pimento Backfire of 2011.
Tuesday: My alarm went off at 5:10 a.m., just like normal. (If you weren’t jealous of my life before, YOU ARE NOW.) I dragged myself out of bed. I got in the shower. I dried myself off. I threw up in the toilet.
OH YES, MY FRIENDS. The pimento was STRIKING BACK. Much like the Empire, but with more cheese and fewer light sabers.
“What? Han, why are you stopping?”
“I don’t know how to say this, Leia, but . . . have you been eating pimento cheese? Your breath is a bit . . . pungent.”
So Tuesday was sort of a blur.
Wednesday: I was better, but weak in that I-haven’t-eaten-in-36-hours kind of way. THANKFULLY, no one else in Casa Riley caught the dreaded bug. Because honestly I can’t think of many serious-yet-not-life-threatening situations I’d rather NOT be in than watching Baby Girl throw up over and over.
(Did that sentence make any sense? I keep reading it and I can’t tell.)
So I did a lot of napping and TV watching and Gatorading on Wednesday. And lo, by Wednesday evening, I had pretty much morphed back into a real human being. I even managed to give you yesterday’s super lame blog post.
In conclusion, pimento cheese has now joined the ranks of Cracked Pepper Triscuits, which I have not eaten since 2007 because they were the last things I tasted before coming down with a vicious stomach virus. In fact, I tried to eat a Triscuit at a baby shower last year and nearly gagged right in front of the mother-to-be.
How has your week been? And more importantly, what food have you blacklisted due to a sudden case of the vomits?