Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Happy New Year, My Ass....

...I suppose YOU all had a GREAT time on New Year's Eve, huh??!!...

Nothing portends doom and gloom for the future like barfing your guts out on New Year's Eve. No, I wasn't bombed on champagne, (stop looking so surprised, Heather), my surprise, late Christmas present this year was a beautifully wrapped case of the stomach flu, courtesy of my mother-in-law. (Gee, thanks, "mom".) It was horrible: hours of barfing, shivering, and aching, interspersed by long, nightmare-filled sleeps. The puking part was the worst: I cried for a bucket, and was promptly presented with our mixing bowl, which I dutifully threw up into, one, two, three times. Totally gross, I know, but believe me, I was in no condition to suggest an alternate choice for barf bucket. The stomach ache was terrible, so bad in fact that at one point I actually cried out for my mother. Now, that's... just weird. I didn't even do that during childbirth.

I finally started to feel a little better this afternoon, and came downstairs to discover Kim Jong IQ and juvenile accomplices had managed to detonate a nuclear warhead on the place. I mean, I'm a slob, but even I have some standards. So did I get to spend a nice afternoon cuddled up on the couch recuperating with one of my Christmas books? Oh no, I had to clean the @#$%!! house. Not that I didn't have help. That Guy will clean if I'm around to bark out orders. But take the initiative on his own? Ha ha ha, that's a good one.

Not that I'm bitter.

Speaking of bitter and Christmas books, my one present from Mr. IQ this year that wasn't a CD was a book called Bitter Chocolate: Investigating the Dark Side of the World's Most Seductive Sweet and, so help me, I am never, ever, ever buying chocolate that isn't Fair Trade ever, ever again. Two words, people: Child Slaves. Child Slaves. Child Slaves.

That's my real New Year's Resolution.

5 comments:

Pamela said...

I know so many people who got that over the holidays.So sorry---

yeah -- why do people get mixing bowls and pots and pans to puke in.
I say grab the bucket or the garbage can.

My salad bowl would just never mean the same to me again.

Well, you are cranky. That must mean you are better

Sheri said...

You seem to be one of many who got that flu. It's happening at my house, poor lil 2 year old trying to deal with it breaks my heart (and subesquently my ear drums). I'm hoping to avoid it...but I'm not holding my breath.

I haven't had a flu in years (knock on partical board) so I hope to high heaven I don't get it now, the residual affect from all the holiday sickies.

I'm sorry you had to clean the house WHILE you were sick. I already know that I'm going to have to have a sit down with the fiance about the trail of underwear that is forever leading me to the bathroom. *sigh*

I hope you feel better!

Jill said...

No advice on getting some proactive house cleaning from your hubby. If I ever figure it out, I'll let you know. Since he does respond to voice commands, you could just sit on the couch and bark orders at him. Not as much fun as reading, but it doesn't require any movement, except your lungs of course.

Oh, that's just not fair! Giving you a Christmas present about the evils of chocolate?? How else does one survive the post-holiday funk except by downing massive quantities of chocolate? Plus Godiva is having their after-Christmas sale, even as we speak!
Sigh. I do try to mostly buy the "free trade" stuff, but we're talking GODIVA chocolate....

Krista said...

I have an idea! The next time you're 'barking orders' at the hubby to get him to clean, make sure you record it. That way, the next time you're sick, you can just pop your pre-recorded instructions into his discman/walkman and go back to sleep while he follows your easy-to-use guide to cleaning your house.

Also, when you're bored (or delirious), you can whip him up a new CD/tape with new inflections in your voice or with Miss H.I. screaming in the background... It'll be loads and loads of hilarity!

slaghammer said...

I’ve yaked in all manner of containers. I recommend small plastic bathroom type garbage cans with trash can liners in them, very tidy. As I am extremely vocal in my vomitous affairs, having my grunts and screams amplified and redirected back to my eardrums is not my idea of a good time. Therefore, large metal pans, especially mixing bowls, not the optimum choice.