i suppose one begins with the meatloaf. i made meatloaf last night. i had never really eaten meatloaf before, much less attempted to make it myself. there was a scrumptious looking recipe for BBQ meatloaf in this month's Cooking Light. any time a recipe's key ingredient is "your favorite barbeque sauce," you know i am going to be on that like Hall on Oates. the meatloaf: it was good. i don't know if it tasted like meatloaf is supposed to taste, but it tasted like a two pound slab of bunless atkins-friendly barbeque burger goodness. astonishingly, delightfully delicious.
it was around 1:30 this morning that my wife began vomiting.
this continued until about 4:30. the baby woke up at her usual 6 am, with an unusually congested cough and severely runny nose. both of my ladies were down! what happened? we all got up together. we fed the baby, who had a hacking loose cough that would impress any grandfather. mrs nice guy decided to take the opportunity to do a little more vomiting. this barfing was all surprising and a little scary and it would have been thoroughly heartbreaking if my heart hadn't already been thoroughly broken by my daughter, whose voice suddenly sounded like kathleen turner's ... only sultrier ... with an 8-pack a day habit ... and a chest cold. so i tended to the baby as mrs nice guy tended to her gag reflex. mrs nice guy went back to sleep at about 6:30
it was at around 6:45 am that i developed explosive diarrhea.
i treated my wan daughter to a dizzying display of pyrotechnics in the loo. at around 8 am the baby went down for a nap -- emotionally exhausted by what she had witnessed (like six times over). just as she drifted off, the lovely lady who does an amazing job of cleaning our tiny hovel twice a month showed up. mrs nice guy opened the door for the cleaning lady. i went into my room to pass the fuck out -- ashen as my grimy sheets and about 12 pounds lighter than i was two hours earlier. as the cleaning lady readied herself in the kitchen, mrs nice guy also passed the fuck out ... on the couch. the cleaning lady said "i think i'll come back next week when there are fewer dead bodies in here." mrs nice guy said "mmph."
and so the day went. my hat is off to single moms. i don't know how they do it. especially single moms who find themselves struck down by faulty meatloaf on the same day their child begins producing enough phlegm to drown a small country.
it's 8:20 pm now. mrs nice guy has been in bed for a large part of the day (she actually, heroically, did a bit of work from home today!). at around 7 pm she developed a little fever. the faulty-meatloaf theory may have to be replaced by a stomach virus theory, which is very plausible given that the baby had a touch of montezuma's revenge this evening. it might explain my daughter's recent finickiness. and come to think of it she did uncharacteristically spit up twice yesterday. christ! it's a stomach virus! i shouldn't have thrown out that delicious meatloaf!
i guess i have to raise a toast to my immune system: it took a lickin' and kept on tickin' -- both my ladies are down for the count. me? i am back operating at about 85 percent now. even had me some dinner. and i feel fine. in fact i feel great! i think i got this sickness beat! i think i gbrgb might just yrrgqt have to wrap this post up and excuse myse ... pblrg