karma
March 12, 2008 8:27 pm UncategorizedLast night, I was fretting because being married forever and ever means you’re eventually going to have to see the other person throw up, and I really don’t think I could handle that sort of thing.
I had to laugh bitterly to myself this afternoon as I slumped miserably on the bathroom floor, hoping my stomach’s spectacular fireworks show (sponsored by Rafferty’s nachos, apparently) would cease before The Fiance’ came home. I haven’t thrown up in more than three years, and it figures it would happen the day after I informed The Fiance’ I wouldn’t kiss him again if he ever threw up, unless maybe a year or so had elapsed. Wouldn’t you know, he not only stopped at Kroger for stomach-friendly beverages and made me chicken-corn soup from scratch, he also kissed me mere hours after everything calmed down.
He may be too good for me. I won’t tell if you won’t.
mickey :
Date: March 13, 2008 @ 8:26 am
You do know there’s customarily that “in sickness and in health” part in typical marriage vows, right?
Vomit is nothing a little toothpaste can’t take care of.
courtney :
Date: March 13, 2008 @ 10:12 am
That’s what bathroom doors are for.
Beth :
Date: March 13, 2008 @ 1:22 pm
Carl doesn’t deal well with me being pukey. So I shut the door and handle it myself, and brush my teeth like mad afterwards. And he’s a much better nurse than I am! So, marriages (even good marriages) can exist even with the spectre of occasional yakking. But that’s pretty awesome that you found a guy who does not share your distaste for pukiness. It bodes well! And no, I won’t tell him